


Dating a monster

by mysticmilks



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Demon Armitage Hux, Demon Hunter Kylo Ren, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:42:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticmilks/pseuds/mysticmilks
Summary: Ben Solo was raised to be a demon hunter, as everyone in his family has been before him. He wanted nothing more than to prove that he was worthy to his family. He lied to them and went on an unauthorized mission to catch and kill an elusive incubus. His search led him to Arkanis University, one of the most prestigious schools in the country.He was sure the mission was going to be easy, before he met the cute freshman Armitage Hux. This meeting would change the fate of both of them.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 68
Kudos: 169





	1. Unlucky hunt

The tequila stung Ben’s throat, pouring down and burning his stomach. He put the empty plastic shot glass on the counter and willed himself not to wince at the awful taste of the cheap alcohol. The electronic music was bursting from badly tuned speakers. Ben hadn’t heard this tune before. Not that it meant anything. Even if it was the most popular hit of this summer, he wouldn’t know that. The dim room stank of sweat, booze, and greasy, junk food.

Ben wanted to leave. This place wasn’t right for him. Not only because he, Ben Solo-Organa, was going to turn thirty this year, while almost everyone else in the house looked like they were undergraduates in their early twenties. Not because the music was too loud, too annoying for his taste. Not even, because he always hated parties, and felt like they were a waste of everyone’s time, a form of group escapism, a pathetic attempt to forget about how lonely we all were, hiding in the crowd. No, the worst thing about it was that the place was charged with emotions. Viscous, destructive emotions — dull lust, drug-induced anxiety, jealousy. It muddled Ben's senses more than shots of tequila. It distracted him more than this tasteless music. From all these emotions a headache started to press at Ben’s temples.

He slowly inhaled, counted to ten, clearing his mind, and exhaled. He needed to concentrate. He inhaled again. This time it helped.

Drunk students were laughing, talking loudly, and dancing around him. Several girls and guys were smiling and looking suggestively at him. He paid zero attention to them. He wasn't a prude. Any other night he'd welcome their attention, but not tonight. Tonight they all were just background objects, a distraction from his goal. His mission. His chance. That was the only important objective tonight.

Tonight Ben was in the middle of this party in a frat house of Delta Phi Phi in the Arkanis University campus. Arkanis University was one of the oldest and the most prestigious establishments in the country. It had a long and proud history full of traditions, prominent alumni, and famous professors. The smartest kids from all over the world dreamed of getting into Arkanis. Ben would never guess that now, by looking at the reflection in the mirror across from the bar counter. The drunk, provocatively dressed youths were dancing, kissing, and carousing, in this place that reeked of cheap alcohol and weed.

Nevertheless, the students gathered here were the golden kids, toffs, and the future of America. If Ben’s family wasn’t who they were, with his parent's status and money he’d probably also have gone to AU.

But he was who he was, and tonight he was on his first mission ever.

For the last several years, Ben had been looking for a way to finally prove himself. His mentor Luke had told him so many frustrating times that Ben hadn’t been ready for the real hunt. Luke was his uncle, and Ben suspected that the old man felt jealous of him. Ben was stronger than him — not Ben’s words, everyone said so. The famous Luke Skywalker must have felt that, so he had slowed down his nephew’s progress on purpose. 

Ben’s mom, renowned Leia Organa — one of the leaders of their Order — had told Ben that he was too young for real missions. That’d been plain hypocrisy. Ben knew for sure that at his age his mother had already been doing fieldwork for years.

“That was a different time, dear, hard times. We fought so you, our children, won’t need to be reckless,” she’d used to say, not looking away from her documents, “It’s not about your physique. We all admit that you are strong, Ben. It’s about what's inside — your principles, your creed — for lack of a better word.”

No matter what Ben would have said, no matter how good he'd been in all the trials, both his mother and his uncle hadn't listened to his wishes.

Tonight Ben would show that they all had been wrong — he was ready to kill the demons.

He’d been searching for his target for the last three and a half weeks and tracked it to Arkanis. Even with all his research, and with files he'd taken from Luke’s office Ben didn’t know much about it: Ben was pretty sure the demon was disguised as male and that it was feeding on students.

Earlier today, the location crystal had pointed to this house — Delta Phi Phi fraternity. At first, Ben hadn’t got it — what would a demon do here? In his head, Ben had imagined fraternity as stiff boys in outdated costumes, talking about school and their shitty parents, kinda like in “Dead Poets Society”, which Ben had seen when he himself had been a teen and had been so bored, he’d fallen asleep halfway through. 

Well, observing the party now, Ben must admit that it was a rather logical place for a hungry incubus to set its hunting base. Most of the students were either drunk or under the influence of drugs. Anyone could come and leave unnoticed — Ben himself had entered without a problem — and finding a partner for the night in such a place was even easier. That was exactly why most of these people came here — to have non-committal fun and tomorrow pretend that it had never happened. The danger was that after an encounter with an incubus you wouldn’t need to pretend.

Ben turned his head, scanning the room once again, and his breath hitched. The demon was nearby. Even with all the commotion, Ben felt it clearly. It was like tingling in his mind, and—because of the nature of that particular creature—a barely noticeable heat in his lower belly. Everyone was unnaturally aroused around an incubus on a hunt — a fact that Ben had read, preparing for this mission. This type of demon was feeding off sexual energy. Incubuses and succubuses were, quite literally, sex vampires, draining their victims of their life force during copulation.

Ben looked around more closely. The big common room was fully packed with sweating, lewdly dressed students. There must be hundreds of them. Some were already making out on the couches. Any one of them could be an incubus. The grimoire stated that incubuses dressed and behaved provocatively, but the book was three centuries old. By the judgment of its author, everyone in the twenty-first century must be dressing as harlots.

Ben’s gaze stopped on the dark-haired maiden who wore an outfit more suited for an early 00’ pop-star — denim mini-skirt, pink crop-top too tight for her pushed-up boobs, high-boots, and even sparkling choker. She might be the demon. She had a strong energy disturbance around her. But Ben's research had pointed to a male. The magical crystals were sure of that. Ben, on the other hand, wasn’t that sure of the searching crystal's accuracy. As Luke used to say, they only show you what you need to know. The phrase always annoyed the hell out of Ben. He imagined if Google worked that way — then everyone would be living in a bubble of their own reality.

Ben looked at the girl closely, using his senses. It was hard, and needed a lot of concentration, like reading a small size font, written on a low contrasting background. It was not her. The energy cloud around her was produced by naturally aroused people. That was reasonable. After all, she dressed and behaved to draw their attention. 

Ben moved his attention to a jock on the other side of the room, who was showing off his muscles to a group of girls. He was radiating hunting energy and even without Ben's senses it was obvious how predatory he was looking at young drunk ladies near him. Ben had already stood up to get closer to him, but loud crude laughter distracted him from approaching the potential incubus.

He turned his head and saw a handsome man in his mid twenties standing on the stairs with a big red plastic cup in his hand. He must have been in his last year or a grad student. Ben stood from the bar and casually walked to his direction. The man was tall, stylishly dressed, had perfectly combed blond hair, and an expensive watch. He was like a stock photo. Looking at him, the image of yachts, private clubs and knitted pullovers popped into mind. There was something malicious in him, but probably not unnatural, considered Ben, slightly annoyed. Ben wasn’t sure why his instincts screamed at him to approach him.

He was just a rich kid, who thought that the world belonged to him, and didn't care about the rest of the commoners. Five bucks said he must be an asshole, that wasn’t Ben’s business, but all his senses deemed otherwise. The blond guy was pouring a big cup of drink for someone, while two other frat bros near him were snickering and telling jokes, gesticulating theatrically.

Ben peered over their shoulders and saw the one, whom they were getting drunk. It was a cute boy, even too cute for this kind of party — he looked like a person who spent his time in the library instead of such places. The guy was young, very young. He was definitely not allowed to drink, or be here. Probably a freshman, with that kid of innocence and open face that could belong only to people who didn’t have any life experience. He was dressed in a checked light-blue buttoned-up shirt and beige slacks. His red hair in disarray as if someone put their hand in it recently.

Ben kept watching them, knowing too well what was going on even without his senses. He wasn't naive. Even though Ben hadn't gone to a regular high school or college, he'd seen enough. The guys kept pouring him drinks, and the poor boy giggled louder, while their hands were getting more frisky. It was like watching a wild nature documentary — three wolves surrounding a helpless, dumb small rabbit. 

While Ben was watching them, the handsome rich man hugged the ginger’s shoulders and tried to draw him upstairs. It was not Ben’s business, he reminded himself, clutching his fists instinctively. He was here for the incubus, and the incubus was somewhere nearby. Ben felt the demon's sweet, viscous sense in the air, just like the books described it. He turned around searching for the source of that smell, but here, near the impromptu dance floor, the crowd was dense, and it was impossible to locate the demon. 

On the stairs, the drunk boy stumbled and almost fell, crashing into the chest of one of the guys, and gasping weakly. He was handsome, Ben noted, with that tender, slender appearance, that who'd be marked as a ginger twink in movies for adults. A few years ago, Ben had watched too many of them, when they still had unlimited internet connection in his uncle’s school.

The jerks around the poor ginger, were not discreetly looking at each other, clearly happy with the state of their victim. It made Ben’s blood boil. His fighting instincts were triggered by the demon's sense, and his control was deluded by alcohol. He wanted to puch their stupid faces to the floor, to show them what it’s like to be overpowered, what it’s like to be helpless, but that wasn’t Ben’s business. His common sense kept reminding Ben of that but it was getting harder to believe it. Situations like this occur every day, across all the party houses and bars. He couldn't save every other inexperienced freshman from their own credulity. As his mother often repeated “Our work is more important than any other. We are the shield...”

He came closer, staring at the ginger, like a drunk creep.

“I think you should go outside and get some fresh air,” Ben found himself saying loudly. Against his best judgment Ben couldn’t stop himself. 

“Who the fuck are you?” asked one of the jerks, the broadest, with a nasty snicker. He wore a varsity jacket, and by the look of his face Ben suggested that he had been accepted in Arkanis for anything other than his brains.

“Is that your nanny?” The other one put his hand on the ginger’s lower back, tugging the ginger to himself, and glared at Ben.

“I see this man… for the first time… ever,” mumbled the boy, sounding very drunk. “Who are you?”

“A friend. Let’s go out. Drink some water,” Ben said trying to sound unthreatening, while boiling from the inside.

“Hey, fuck off,” the broad jerk glared at Ben. “He's fine. We’ll figure everything out ourselves.”

“I don’t want problems—” said Ben.

“Then don’t interfere,” the rich handsome man looked coldly in Ben’s eyes. “He told you he doesn't know you. Leave and don’t bother other people having fun.”

“This guy is clearly not in the condition to give any kind of consent and—”

“Consent? What are you talking about?” the handsome one raised his almost white eyebrow theatrically, “We’re just showing Andy our house. Nothing to worry about. Right?”

“Yeah,” agreed the ginger. Ben caught something in his green eyes, that he couldn’t explain but it disappeared almost immediately. It was like for a moment he was actually sober and aware of the mess he was in.

Before Ben could ask him again, one of the jocks pulled ginger’s arm, making him lean into his chest and shoving the ginger up the staircase with his body.

The biggest one of them blocked the stairs, preventing Ben from moving any further.

The aura of incubus got extremely potent. That was Ben's chance. The crystal in Ben’s pocket was hot, but in that close proximity he didn’t even need it. If he just looked around, concentrating his powers, he’d locate it, follow the creature to an empty room, send it back to the depths of hell where it belonged. Then Ben could go back to his family proving himself worthy. That was everything he had ever wanted. Maybe they would even accept him as a junior counsel member. That was Ben’s plan all along, after all.

Instead, Ben kicked the huge guy in front of him in his knee, making the jock fold in half. Ben turned, immediately pushing the handsome rich blond in his chest with his open palm. Ben had been trained his whole life, fighting humans wasn't a challenge for him. The only issue was not to overdo it, and look natural in the process. It was easy for him to overpower those three tipsy jerks, without even hurting them much. Okay, he did hit the handsome one a bit too hard in solar plexus, so that he yelped in pain. Totally worth it, although if Ben's family saw it they’d lecture him about power and responsibility.

The fight was over in mere seconds. Three men were grunting on the floor cursing him. Everyone else stopped dancing and smooching and was looking at the brawl. Even the ginger, who leant against the banister, seemed soberer now. His deep green eyes were on Ben, and a small surprised smirk tugged his lips. Hopefully no one was stupid enough to call the cops. His family can easily deal with officials, but that would be an epic fail for him.

“Hey, let’s leave, while no one has called the police” Ben whispered.

The guy gazed around, looking confused and upset, but promptly nodded. Ben tugged him by the shoulder, the crowd parted them and they got to the main door.

No one tried to stop them, no one followed them and they got to a nearby park without any troubles. To Ben’s surprise. The adrenaline flew away and now he felt like a complete idiot — jeopardizing his mission to help this boy — utter and complete idiot.

“Better?” asked Ben, when he made the ginger drink from the water fountain.

“Yes,” he said flatly. His voice was crisp, with British notes in it, like a person who emigrated when they were a child.

“Do you need help getting home?” Ben asked, sighing and not looking at him.

“Do you want to go with me?” he slurred, stretching words and cocking his head.

Ben looked at the drunk redhead closely again. The boy was studying Ben, following his movements from under his half-closed eyelids, flickering his long golden lashes. He was at least a freshman, or he wouldn't be able to go to the party. That meant that he must be a minimum eighteen years old.

Maybe going to his place wasn’t such a bad idea. Ben deserved some rest after months of preparations for the hunt. One night wouldn’t change anything. They both would sober up while they walked to the ginger's place. And even if not, they didn’t have to do anything serious tonight. It’d be nice to just make out, relax, maybe to have a bit of mutual handjob — innocent stuff.

Their eyes met. Even in the dim park light, Ben noticed that his eyes were bright green, almost glowing, so he even questioned if those were lenses. Once again Ben thought about how incredibly beautiful he was: slim, tall, with perfect nobly pale skin and symmetrical features. Yes, Ben wanted this naive, young man, whose name he didn’t even know. Andy? The blond asshole said something like that. Or was it Eddie? Anyway, Ben felt stupid to ask it now.

Ben’s arousal was meddling his brain, canceling his manners and common sense. He wanted, no, needed to get closer to this guy, hug him, kiss him, protect him from all the jerks in this cruel world, slowly peel off the layers of his clothes, caress his body, show him how it felt with someone who really cared about you. That would be the right thing to do, that would make Ben his savior in more than one way tonight.

“So?” the soft, low voice dragged Ben back to reality.

The proposal was too tempting to say no.

“I can order an Uber for you,” Ben said instead, pushing his fantasies down. It was tempting indeed, but he couldn’t babysit every cute drunk freshman, he had a job to finish. “Sorry, but I think you’d be better alone right now.”

The guy looked at him as if Ben suddenly had the third eye or a pair of horns, but then looked away shaking his head.

“No need for a taxi. I will be fine,” and he turned around, striding in the dark.

Not even saying goodbye, thought Ben, annoyed. You fight for them and they aren’t even polite with you. Ben continued grumbling inwardly about young people these days, with their tinder and their free love, while walking back to the frat house. Maybe this guy didn't even need his help, who knows. Maybe if Ben finished with the demon quickly he would be able to celebrate and find someone for himself.

He expected problems back in the fraternity house but no one paid any attention to him. The guys he’d beat disappeared, and everyone else was busy partying and drinking. The place reeked of the demon, but that seemed to disappear too. Ben explored the whole first floor with no luck. The incubus definitely had been there, but his sense was getting weaker.

Ben moved upstairs. He heard lewd noises from behind the closed doors but didn’t feel even the traces of incubus anywhere. Skulking in the bathroom Ben checked with his crystals - nothing, no demons in the vicinity.

The rest of the night was disappointing. Even anticlimactic. He felt like he deserved a victory after he helped the innocent person earlier. 

Ben was a protector of the people. That was the credo of their order — protect the humans. He had done exactly that, the right thing. But expecting fate to award him with an easy success for that had been silly — real life wasn’t a cheesy tv show, where a leather-clad hero kills the demons in every episode before having steamy rendezvous with an interchangeable beauty.

Ben would catch the incubus next time. He was sure of that now when he knew that the horrible creature was indeed in Arkanis. And then he’d find some hot, sober ginger and celebrate.

* * *

Over the next few days, Ben continued his hunt for the elusive incubus. Everything in the Arkanis was classical and stylish. Just being there felt like being a part of a period movie. Ben himself had never attended any normal school and enjoyed being part of that world, even if it all was just for a mission. Ben roamed through the Arkanis campus, sneaking into beautiful old study halls, atriums, and classrooms, where hundreds of eager students were gaining extremely overpriced knowledge. He even checked dorms, all to no avail.

Days formed into a week, but Ben didn't find anything valuable. He decided not to be annoyed and not to rush. Planning every move, checking every spell, charging every crystal, be patient, as Uncle Luke taught him. 

Yes, he wanted to wipe out the disgusting creature as fast as possible, but Ben was resolved to prove that his family had been wrong about him.

Maybe that night at the fraternity party wasn’t a failure, maybe it was meant to be that way, he thought during the nights in his rented apartment.

It was Ben’s chance to execute everything right. He was not a hothead. Fine, maybe he was, but he tried really hard to stop being — well, himself, and imagine what his mother or any other proven hunter would do. He wanted to execute everything accurately this time, so when he came back, there wasn't anything, even the tiniest bit, that he'd done wrong.

After all, Ben had deliberately chosen the demon with what Ben could act without haste, the one demon that was smart enough not to leave trails of bodies behind its back.

Such behavior wasn't typical for incubus and succubus: most of "sex demons" were trapped by their own instincts and hunger, too irrational to cover their deeds, too reckless to stop before their victims were fully drained. The victims either died during the sex act itself or in a matter of hours after it. If books in Uncle Luke’s library were right almost one-third of all uncaught serial killers were in fact incubuses — stupid creatures couldn't even bother to get rid of bodies, self-assured bastards.

Thankfully, there weren't that many of that type of demons, at least not in the human world. They were in the middle of the demon hierarchy but they were valued by other higher demons as partners. That was why incubuses preferred to spend their time with other supernatural beings, feeding on them, skipping ranks, and being some demonic equivalents of trophy wives. Not a surprise, on account of their supernatural attractiveness. And the sex must be mindblowing too. 

Not that the books told anything about the quality of sex with the demons, but Ben had assumed that. Why else wouldn't their victims— humans, and demons both—even attempt to fight them off?

But this particular incubus was different from his textbook siblings. This smart, nasty thing left his victims alive, severely drained of stamina, but alive. That made it hard to find by other hunters for almost a decade. But also it made this demon a perfect prey for Ben — he could do a clean job, and not be rushed by potential risk to mortals, and earn extra respect points for overpowering a particularly sly creature.

So Ben pushed down his impulse to act immediately and waited for the right time to strike.

During those days of preparation and tracking, Ben saw the cute ginger from the party a few more times. The cute ginger was in the library, when Ben was searching it for a demon and in the classroom where the incubus's sense was the most intense. He was at the stadium too — the ginger, the incubus, and the rest of the campus. Ben kept noticing him only because his hair was so unique, and maybe, just maybe, because he was so attractive.

The handsome ginger wasn’t in fact Andy. He wasn't Eddie either. His name was Armitage Hux, as a chatty blond girl from his economics class told Ben. Not that Ben was asking on purpose, just a small game to kill the time.

Ben came up to a blond girl, while she was smoking between classes, and started asking her questions. There wasn’t much hope that she noticed the incubus, regular people tend to ignore the demons, and this particular one strongly preferred men anyway.

It was just a little training of Ben's detective skills. “Being good in solving crimes is as important as fighting skills,” said his uncle.

That was an easy play. The girl was eager to tell Ben, a total stranger, everything about herself — humans were so gullible sometimes.

“So economics?” Ben asked, faking interest, after her long monologue about Arkanis history “You must know Andy?”

“Andy?”

“Yeah, Andy. Tall, red hair—”

“Do you mean Armie?” and then she told Ben everything she knew about the ginger, which wasn’t much.

He was indeed a freshman and he was indeed from England. He was all about studying and not so much about partying. That was it. Ben pressed her a bit using his interrogation skills, but she didn’t remember anything else. It seemed like Armie Hux had attracted everyone's attention, but didn’t attempt to make any friends, not with anyone.

The overall hunt wasn’t that successful as it was the first day. The crystals that Ben had borrowed from Uncle Luke when he'd left his family, only had two ranges: long distance, and super close.

The first type was good for pointing out the building. Ben held them over the map and the crystal was drawn to some point — not very helpful in uni teaming with students. The crystal kept pointing to the main building or to the park. Not helpful at all.

The short distance crystals can identify demons when Ben was close to them, and only if they used their supernatural powers — and this incubus apparently didn’t do that during the classes. So Ben continued enjoying crisp but sunny early fall weather, reading his book, and putting his life in the hands of fate. Sooner or later something must happen.

One of the nights Ben went to the student bar. The crystal had pointed to it, but it wasn't the main reason. He didn't rely on the crystal that much after so many failures, but it was a bar, and drinking his sorrows away seemed like the best decision tonight.

Ben didn’t sense any traces of demon there. But the bar was teeming with people, it was almost impossible to scan every one of them. After two sad glasses of whiskey he was ready to leave. Maybe he'd get lucky tomorrow, he thought, and left a twenty on the counter.

He was near the exit, when something jolted his senses. Ben looked around and saw a glimpse of fire-red hair — Armitage. He must have just come, or Ben would have spotted him before.

It was too much of a coincidence, and although Ben didn’t feel anything from such a long distance in the crowded room, he decided to start to ask around about mysterious redheads from Britain. That was as good as any other point to start. And with Armie in the center of it, the investigation became more exciting. If Ben was right and Armitage was a demon — great, his mission would be a success. If not — also good, Ben could find out more about a hot guy, and no one could argue that the time spent on a hot person was a waste of time.

During the next three days, Ben gathered enough information about Armitage Hux.

Armie had no friends. He lived alone outside of the campus. No one knew where exactly but rumor had it that Armitage had a nice apartment downtown. They said he was rich. All his family was in England, likely rich and important, but he wasn't close to them. He was the smartest person in the class, way better than all his classmates in every discipline. He had neither a boyfriend nor a girlfriend, but he was seen a few times with older men.

“You know, he's your typical straight-A boy,” said Jim, chewing on his sandwich. He shared a calculus class with Armitage and happily agreed to talk with Ben about him, “Boys like him, they study all their life, while parents standing nearby. Then they leave their shithole of a town, Nowhere Rural Country, come to uni, and then they can’t stop fucking around. Mark my word he'll drop out in a year.”

Ben’s suspicions grew stronger, yet he couldn't attack a man just because of rumors.

Maybe Jim was right, and Armie was just “a good boy gone loose”. Ben needed strong evidence. He didn’t admit it, but he really wanted Jim to be right. It’d be so much better for everyone if Armie was just another promiscuous freshman. Not better for Ben himself, but he can look for the real incubus a bit longer.

After classes, Ben followed Armitage into the library. Listening to his senses, Ben approached the table where Armie sat with his laptop and a stack of books.

“Hi,” Ben said and made an amiable smile “You don't know me, but we met—”

“Yes.” Armitage Hux stared at him, slowly moving his gaze up and down, and after a moment smiled back “I remember. Vaguely. It was the party? Last Friday, right?"

"Yeah."

"Thank you, for helping me," he mumbled, lowering his eyes and clutching his hands, "I rarely drink and I didn’t think… well, thank god, you interfered.”

Ben noticed an adorable pink hue tinted his cheeks, and felt an urge to touch them, to protect and beat those frat assholes again. He was so slim, so vulnerable, so exposed. He projected innocuity: from his thin wrists to big wide eyes.

“Anyone would do the same,” Ben mumbled, staring at Armitage’s hands. They were fiddling with pens and pages now. He had nice long fingers, elegant — everything about him was elegant.

“But you were the only one who did,” said the guy quietly and looked Ben in the eyes “How rude of me — I’m Armitage Hux.”

_ I know _ , almost said Ben.

“Nice to meet you, Armitage. I’m Kylo Ren,” Ben said the alias he'd chosen for this mission.

“Really?” Armitage smirked, raising his eyebrow “It sounds like a childish nickname for a warlock in an online game.”

“Really. Do you always ridicule people’s names?” Ben struggled not to show his annoyance “I can show you my ID if you don’t trust me, Armitage Hux. If you show me yours.”

Ben had created his nickname a long time ago, as Armitage had easily guessed, and it really was his character in an online game. And yes, he'd felt utterly silly when he'd made a fake ID with it. He certainly didn’t expect to show it to anyone, it was just a part of the standard procedure, but now he was grateful to his past self for forethought.

“Hey, don’t get all grumpy, big guy," Armitage said "I just joked. And we, British, aren’t good at it. It's strange to be the one not with the most peculiar name. Anyway, it was inappropriate of me. You saved my ass, probably quite literally, from those jerks. You didn’t take advantage of my state. I do trust you, Kylo. Can I call you Kylo?”

“Yeah,” said Ben, looking at Armie's most charming smile.

“I think I owe you, how about a cup of coffee and the most expensive piece of cake we can find on campus? And you can call me Armie, everyone does.”

Ben nodded, smiling back before he could stop himself. For a moment Ben even forgot that he wasn’t really flirting with a cute freshman. That Armie was good, although Ben doubted that it was the real name of the creature. The sweet, stupefying scent was there. It was weaker than in the frat house, but it was all around the incubus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't hesitate to leave kudos and comments. I LOVE your comments.
> 
> * * *
> 
> You can find me [tumblr](https://mysticmilks.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystic_milks) or [curiousCat](https://curiouscat.me/mystic_milks)
> 
> Many thanks to [@spiteandmalice ](https://twitter.com/spiteandmalice) for beta reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Shameless self-promo:  
>  _modern AUs:_  
>  Famous Russian AU, that my friends and I translated [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280/)  
> Demon!Hux / hunter!Kylo [Dating a monster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703904)  
> Hux/Kylo/Techie, pwp with feelings and bottom!Kylo [You can have it all, but not all at once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721863/)  
> Russian train AU [The train on fire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477458/)  
> roommates AU, there was only one bed [Up All Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018218/)  
> co-workers on a long business trip, friends to lovers [my face above the water, my feet can't touch the ground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928956/)
> 
>  _Canon:_  
>  post-tlj, media AU [you are burned up before you know it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705078)
> 
>  _Fantasy AUs:_  
>  Hux is a merman, Kylo is a Sea Warlock [The Little Merman](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24610624/)  
> Arranged marriage, Hux needs to marry a mysterious man and Kylo needs to deliver him there [drop the curtain, blow out the candles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462159)
> 
>  _Collection of ficlets_  
>  Ficlets for Kyluxpositivity [In all the worlds, in all the times](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771663)


	2. Power of will

Hux swallowed the rest of the cum and stood up from the hotel floor, covered with ugly green-blue carpeting. The middle-aged man in grey office suit leaned against the wall, panting weakly. His pants were around his knees, exposing his thin, hairy legs with blue veins. His underwear was pulled down under his balls, his flaccid cock hung there, looking small and pathetic. Its owner was on the verge of collapsing, breathing shallowly, and gradually sliding down to the floor. This time Hux had overdone it. After a few days of abstinence, it had been exceedingly difficult for him to stop at the right moment.

The man wasn't making a particularly mouth-watering view. It was better that way. The less attractive they were, the less Hux liked them, the easier it was for him to stop.

The middle-aged, partially bald man, who hadn't been a hunk even in his prime years, was the opposite of attractive. In a few minutes of inane chat, Hux had been sure that he wasn't a charismatic person either — he'd indicated that he'd been ashamed of his own desires, that what Hux had been doing was disgusting and sinful and yet he had proposed to come upstairs to this room. But even near that pathetic specimen Hux was wet between his legs nonetheless. His ass was pulsing with dull want. His body simply didn't care about any of that. He was constantly horny around any potential victim. That annoyed him endlessly, but Hux couldn't do anything to fix it — the more he fought his cravings the stronger they got.

It’d be nice to take a dick or two inside to quench his thirst, but he wasn’t in the mood for any penetration lately. Occasional blow jobs or even handjobs was all he allowed himself these days. He was afraid to lose control and be forced to run just after he had just settled in a new town — yes, but it was only part of the truth.

That spring Hux had decided that he was going to stay in Arkanis University for at least four years of the bachelor program. The decision had been logical and thoughtful. No one would ask about his age on campus, no one wouldn't even notice that he was too young. No one would care with whom he screwed around. Many of the other students were doing exactly the same.

Enrolling in AU was practical too. One more degree under his belt. The Bachelor of Economics would be the third one in his collection. Maybe one day he'd find a way to actually use it.

The only issue was keeping a low profile and not attracting any attention. As long as he didn't murder or seriously injure anyone he was safe. He could easily achieve that. His lust was merely physical for years now, while his mind was clear even amidst the craziest orgies. In the last five years not one of his partners even passed out.

But with Kylo Ren in the picture, Hux wasn’t so sure about anything anymore. This man messed with all his plans.

“Wallet,” Hux ordered absentmindedly, wiping his mouth with a napkin, and wiping his pants.

His prey obeyed, beaming like an idiot he was. 

He ached to rinse his mouth to get rid of the nasty aftertaste. Brushing his teeth and taking a shower would be good too. On the contrary, to Hux’s own expectation he never got used to the taste of semen, or any other bodily function for that matter. Initially, he thought that his hunger was for it, like vampires crave blood. But after years of experiments — a few of those experiments were rather gross and he didn't like to think of them— and after carefully listening to his body's urges Hux concluded that it was the emotions he was feeding on. It was some kind of the life force that he takes during the copulation, and everything else was an unpleasant and useless bonus.

“Darling you were wonderful,” said Hux, not taking his eyes away from the wallet.

They liked it when he praised them afterward. It seemed to be easier for their minds to accept it that way. Hux had never asked but he suspected that they had an alternative perception on what was going on there. It seemed that in the end, they were in trance.

He took three hundred bills, a handful of twenties, and bonus cards, all that was in the wallet, except for the photo of a mediocre-looking woman surrounded by three mediocre kids. It was easier with married people too, less trouble afterwards. Hux preferred it that way.

Hux pulled out his phone, took his pathetic victim's credit cards, and placed online orders. Nothing special, some clothes, food, some stuff for Hux’s new apartment. It all cost another few hundred. Fine, it cost $856 — almost a thousand, but who cared?

Something in Hux’s unnatural powers made his prey enjoy their brief time together. Not even enjoy, but completely lose their minds in the process. They were begging for more, even when Hux was draining them. But it also scared the shit out of them. So they prefer to happily forget and not dig into the whole experience. They probably subconsciously knew that it was a small price for great sex and a pleasant bonus of being alive after it. Or maybe they were simply ashamed, and afraid that their darlings would discover their infidelity. Not that Hux had ever risked to find them again and ask. It was as it was, no reason to dwell on it.

Hux was certain that this man, like so many before him, wouldn’t bother to track the money, look for Hux on purpose, or approach him if they accidentally see each other ever again. Although Hux used a fake account, and all deliveries came to the anonymous mail box. You couldn't be too cautious.

“Thank you, handsome. Drink some coke, and do not drive in the next ten hours,” he said, and closed the door. If the man had any brain left, he'd obey.

Exiting an unremarkable downtown chain hotel, Hux checked the time — 6.25. He had almost an hour until his date with Kylo. Just enough time to change, shower, and come back to campus where they'd agreed to meet.

That wasn't ideal, Hux wanted to prepare and look his best. He always looked nice, that was a part of his curse, but that doesn't mean he wasn't nervous and anxious before the dinner with the first man he actually was attracted to in years.

On the other hand, if Hux could he’d have moved his rendezvous with that aging married lawyer even closer to his date with Kylo. It was easier to control himself right after he satisfied his hunger. He needed all his self-control when he was around Kylo. But he couldn’t possibly show up on the date reeking of someone’s jizz from his mouth.

The whole situation with Kylo was the definition of messed-up.

Hux felt horrible even for that pathetic blow-job. He felt guilty, miserable, like a total asshole. It was wrong. Hux wasn't sure why he, all of a sudden, after years of making his peace with it, felt that way. 

That wasn’t cheating. That was for sure.

Not because his status with Kylo wasn't official. Hux was old-fashioned, he'd never have fun with anyone else behind his date's back. Even if they never discussed their relationship or called each other boyfriends.

That wasn't cheating, no more than eating a microwaved pizza before a romantic dinner would be considered to be a betrayal.

Hux didn’t have any emotions toward this middle-aged man, or to any of others, for that matter. It was a simple way of surviving. He couldn't stop. It wasn't his fault. But he highly doubted that Kylo would see it that way. And with Kylo in mind, these meetings with strangers in rented rooms or dirty bathrooms of shady bars had become even less bearable for Hux than they were before.

It was Hux’s third official date with Kylo Ren. It was Hux’s first third official date ever. It definitely was sad — he had all forms of crazy sex with hundreds of different of people, but he had never been invited on a third date. Many years ago he'd had something like normal dating, but it had been laced with sneaking out, secrecy, pretending that they were just friends, which had made it only more exciting. They had been just two scared boys, dreaming of being openly together and then everything had changed forever. There had been no more kisses, no more embarrassed declarations of feelings, no more talk at all. People just wanted sex from Hux, and that what the only thing he could give.

Until he'd met Kylo Ren.

It was different with Kylo. Hux liked Kylo. It was a cliche, but Kylo was not like other men. He was different. He was decent. It was hard to decipher, hard to explain. It wasn't about his appearance, although Kylo was a handsome person — tall, broad, with muscular arms, his dark hair was wavy and almost touched his shoulders, his features weren't conventional, but they were expressive and drew attention to his face. Beyond doubt, Hux would have noticed such a man in a crowd. If Hux had a type, that would be it. But Hux didn't, and he learned the hard way not to pay attention to the exterior. 

There was something in Kylo that made Hux's knees go weak, and a stupid smile appear on his face. Kylo was smart. He was an European History grad student. He could tell the most hilarious stories about long-forgotten battles and ancient cities. Hux couldn't even imagine that something as boring as history could be funny and entertaining.

Kylo asked questions about him, instead of dragging him to the nearest dark corner, and Hux was so thrilled with that, that he tried as much as possible not to lie.

“ _ My parents are far away _ ,” — well, one could say that when his parents were actually dead.

“ _ I’ve recently turned eighteen, _ ” — recently was quite a relative term. Hux hadn’t specified recently compared to what.

“ _ I don’t have many friends yet _ ,” — zero can be viewed as ‘not many’.

It was silly, but after more than a decade of an intense sex life, Hux didn’t have experience in amorous matters. Not easy to build a relationship when all the guys and some girls too, go crazy with want around you, and you want to fuck them to their quite possible death.

For Hux everything about his relationship with Kylo was novel and exciting.

Now Hux could just go to a cafe, order some crazy coffee, in which from coffee was left only by the name, and everything else was cream, caramel, syrup, and sprinkles. He could hold hands. He could look at Kylo’s open face and his hazel eyes, and simply talk about whatever they want. No sneaking, no quick sex in the dirty closets. Just a normal date of one normal man and one disgusting monster.

Yes, Kylo wanted him, Hux sensed that. Even without Hux’s senses, it was obvious. The way Kylo looked at him, as if he Hux would disappear if he blinked. But he had never slipped into inappropriately touching him, didn’t make any lewd comment. 

And Hux wanted him too. He wanted him a lot. From the moment their eyes had met in that seedy frat house. Kylo smelled divine. Like the storm, like electric wires, like a need. There was something else. It reminded Hux of going into the deep woods, creeping feelings on the back of his neck, a deep sense of danger mixed with primordial excitement.

Hux craved him more than anyone else before. His want for Kylo was even stronger than it was the few times when Hux was trying to stop feeding on humans, and was starving for more than a week. It was eating him from the inside, and with each date, it was getting harder for Hux to control himself. He knew that he needed to satiate his hunger with someone else to keep Kylo safe. 

But being with anyone else felt wrong.

Hux hadn’t felt like that in years. The strange and foreign word  _ crush _ came to his mind.

* * *

“Do you want one more piece, Armie?” Kylo asked, huffing lightly, when Hux devoured the last part of his strawberry cheesecake in one big spoon. “You know, you can have as many as you like, and they won’t run away from you, no need to rush.”

Hux smiled, looking at Kylo’s reflection in the window. They sat in a discrete booth at the back of a small cafe, where Kylo had invited him for their date. They were there only for twenty minutes, talking about their studies, but they’d already finished big cups of coffee, and Hux had devoured his piece of cake in the record time. He wasn’t even that hungry, not for food. He just needed distraction, any distraction to take his attention away from Kylo’s gorgeous lips.

Human food wasn’t on top of Hux’s priorities list, although he enjoyed it. The closest thing he could compare it with was like smelling something nice — it didn't help with your hunger but it was pleasant. He could eat all day long, not gaining even a pound. It seemed like the food simply disappeared in the black hole inside him. A few times he’d forgotten to eat for more than a week. After that, he was sure that he didn’t need food and the vague feeling of hunger was either a mere habit or his brain tricked him to think about food when he was low on energy.

Hux really missed the real satisfaction of the nice meal that he’d lost more than thirteen years ago. It would be so nice to eat a whole steak and feel full and guilty, lying on the couch for hours like a well-fed snake. 

“Armie?” repeated Kylo. His voice jolted Hux. It always did, from the very first moment, he’d seen Kylo at that party.

“One more cake?” Hux managed to keep his voice playfully neutral, even while his instincts were screaming to run. “No, but thanks, dear. Do you want something? We can go to that hot-dog place you were talking about.”

It was strange, Kylo was nice, intelligent and well behaved, but something inside Hux was low-key terrified near him. He felt like a bunny in front of a big bad wolf. He wanted to get away, to hide, to freeze. Something even deeper inside him was incredibly interested and aroused. It was messed up, neither of those feelings had any ground. A moment later it passed. 

“Nope,” Kylo smiled warmly, as if highlighting how absurd Hux’s body reacted, “but I’m keen on taking a walk to the river.”

Oh, the river side. During the months he’d spend in Arkanis he’d had sex twice there — once a guy practically pulled him in the bushes, and the second time two jerks fucked him under the pier. Those were nice huntings, but the overall experience was far from nice. If Hux wasn’t concerned with accidentally killing those jerks, he’d stay with them longer to for sure give them the most horrible headache of their life. But he must be smart about it, after all, it was just the matter of survival. 

The memories of those awful s intercourses were too fresh. That was definitely not the place to go with a nice man like Kylo. Separating his hunting life and his fragile attempts to build a normal relationship was the closest thing Hux had to a plan.

“Do you want to come to my place?” He blurted, reaching to touch Kylo’s fingers.

“Your place? Are you sure?” Kylo said, meeting Hux’s eyes in the reflection. 

Looking at his surprised face, Hux suspected that Kylo was partially afraid to be straightforward with him because of how they met. A good person like Kylo seemingly didn’t want to take advantage of the boy, whom he saved from the horny frat boys. Maybe he thought that Hux must be traumatised, or that he might suspect that Kylo had alternative motives from the beginning. Throughout their week together, they only had chaste kisses goodbye, more like pecks on the lips than the real thing. Each of them had gone through Hux’s body, frightening and arousing him like kisses had done years ago.

All of that was so silly and sweet, that it made Hux irrationally sad.

“I can make you some tea. I have great tea at home,” suggested Hux shrugging. It was lame but he couldn’t allow himself to destroy what he felt with Kylo. And he really did have really great tea. Nothing had killed his love for a good tea, “And I have a new stereo and a huge flat-screen. We can watch something together. If you are okay with that.”

* * *

It was a cozy autumn evening. Hux didn’t have anything like that in a very long time. At first, it was awkward. Bringing Kylo to his home had felt more intimate than sex. Hux hadn’t been sure how to treat guests, he’d never had them.

He had only been occupying this apartment for less than two months, since he moved to Arkanis. It was situated in a good neighborhood, on the last—fourth—floor of a nice old building with a high ceiling and big windows. The apartment wasn’t particularly luxurious — just one bedroom, spacious living room and a tiny home-office that Hux suspected was a closet before. He didn’t want to draw extra attention to his finances, but the interior was stylish and showed that he had taste and loved comfort.

He showed Kylo around the apartment, talking too much and providing unnecessary explanation about his choice of decor and his feelings toward his furniture. But then they’d started discussing the choice of movie and it went smoothly from there. Two hours later, they half-laid together on the sofa in Hux’s living room.

They agreed to watch some high budget nonsense that neither of them had seen and hadn’t been particularly invested into – the perfect choice for a date. They made a bowl of caramel popcorn, turned the light off and covered themselves with the warm grey alpaca blanket, that one of Hux’s previous victims had ordered for him. It was something that a normal couple would do. Probably. Hux wasn’t sure. He himself hadn’t even invited anyone to his place before Kylo, needless to say that he hadn’t snuggled with anyone.

The movie was almost over. It was a cheesy fighting flick — a handsome dude with a wrist knife was killing bad guys, jumping from one roof to another. It was something about secret orders, and ancient prophecies, with a lot of CGI and pointless action scenes. Hux didn’t pay much attention to it, completely distracted by the man on his side. 

Hux’s head was resting on Kylo’s shoulder. Their sides touched, so he could feel Kylo breathing. He relished in that soft safe feeling, trying to ignore the fire in his chest and wet slick gathering in his entrance.

It was odd. The closer he got to Kylo, the more conflicting his senses were. Maybe that was something that you would feel lying near a wild predator, an untamed wolf, resting inches away from its muzzle. The beast was dangerous, but while you were with it, you were safe, protected from the rest of the world.

That was the strange feeling. Crazy feeling. Yes, Kylo was big and undeniably strong, but he also was the nicest guy. And Hux was pretty sure that in any case he would be able to overpower Kylo. Hux’s body looked fragile, but he was stronger than most humans, and he had years of training. But even knowing all that, even now, lying in Kylo’s arms, the sense of danger kept screaming in the back of Hux’s head, spicing up their encounter. 

_ Run-run-run. No! Lean closer, let him take you. Let him do anything he wants with you. Be his. _

He must be out of his mind, but it only made Hux’s arousal stronger.

Kylo moved, just lightly brushing his lips over Hux’s neck and Hux couldn’t take it any more. His body was on literal fire. Hux turned to face him, for a moment stopping to look at Kylo’s eyes, then leaning closer, catching Kylo’s lips with his own.

Kylo was a good kisser, passionate and skilled. His lips were soft and tender. He answered with a demanding tongue. Climbing on top of Hux, while his big hands locked on both sides of Hux’s neck. Hux shivers. It was only kissing, but it already felt like fireworks in Hux’s belly. It was great. It felt like they could do it for hours, like two foolish teens. Maybe they did, Hux lost the track of time. As if he was back in high school, making out for the first time.

Kylo’s hand slides to Hux’s side, tugging his shirt up, and caressing the bare skin. He softly moaned into Kylo’s mouth. That awoke him.

What the hell was he thinking? Making out for hours? Who even knows how that would affect Kylo? That was totally uncharted territory. What if that would be enough to harm him?

Hux didn’t know answers to any of those questions, what did he know was that a moment ago he didn’t care. His control had slipped, his brain had turned off, while his dick had taken the leadership – the last time it happened he almost killed a guy.

Panicking, he pressed his hands on Kylo’s chest and pushed him off, with more power than was necessary. For a moment it felt like Kylo wouldn't move, wouldn't stop, wouldn’t let him go, pressing Hux into the sofa. Then he opened his eyes, blinking at Hux as if waking up from a sleep. He pushed up, raising from Hux on straightened arms. And, when the weight of the other body disappeared, Hux rushed to the far side of the sofa, resting his back on the arm cushion. 

Without thinking, he drew his legs to his chest, making himself small, so no part of him was connected to Kylo. He breathed shallowly, trying not to inhale Kylo’s smell and calming himself down.

That didn’t help much. Hux’s dick was fully hard, his ass slick and ready. The air between them was charged with sexual energy, and for Hux it was sweeter than any dessert. Kylo, on the contrary, was breathing heavily. His hair was disheveled and cheeks pink. He looked gorgeous. It cost Hux all his mental power not to rush back to Kylo's arms.

Hux looked up at Kylo’s face and caught the weird mix of surprise and disappointment. His nostrils were flaring, his chest was rising and falling rapidly. His eyes were full of anger and lust. The dangerous energy only got stronger. 

Hux knew what would happen next. He’d seen such expressions, such body language. Kylo would press him down with his body, turn him around and breed him like an animal, as men had done so many before him when Hux was in the mood to play coy. But today he wasn’t playing. Hux knew when it came to this when Kylo reached to him, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. And that would be their shared demise.

Kylo didn’t move.

“What’s wrong?” Kylo whispered instead, combing his hair with his fingers. His voice trembled with what Hux identified as resentment. The words were definitely hard for Kylo to pronounce. They came out almost like a snarl.

Hux swallowed. Took a long breath.

“Nothing. I’m— I’m sorry,” mumbled Hux, grabbing the blanket and hugging it to himself, as if he was in outer space and it was his only anchor. All the feelings were ripping him from the inside. He couldn’t explain it, without sounding crazy. He couldn’t do anything to...

“Armie. It’s okay. Everything is okay,” his voice became normal, even calming.

“I’m sorry,” was all Hux managed to say, before dashing to the bathroom. If he stayed for a moment longer he’d do something very stupid. Like crying in front of him.

He locked the door, tugged his clothes off, and jumped in the shower stall. Cold water. Lots of freezing cold water. That was his personal savior now. It took Hux by surprise but it was true — he wanted Kylo. He actually, really, truly wanted him. Not the energy that comes with sex, not physical relief, he wanted that man.

“Armie, what is wrong?” he heard a shout from the other side of the door.

“I don’t feel well.” It was true. He felt like a piece of shit, a miserable shit, who couldn’t have anything nice in his cursed life. Even for one night.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Yes, Hux should have screamed, and ordered Kylo to never come back. Hux knew it was too dangerous to have sex with Kylo. Too dangerous to even be around him. The last time he tried to do that with a guy he liked it ended badly. That must be where his novel feeling of danger came from.

“No.” But he was a weak and horrible creature. Pathetic. As his father had always said. All he wanted right now was for Kylo to break through the door and take him right in the shower without even undressing “It’s fine, just give me a second, please.”

The freezing water helped. Not a lot but at least Hux was able to control his urges, and his own body didn’t have that funny smell it always had while he was about to have sex. He wiped himself up and exited the bathroom in his fluffy white bathrobe.

Hux almost ran into Kylo, who was standing just in front of the bathroom door, face resolved, his leather satchel on his shoulder, his hand on it as if he's ready to leave as soon as Hux lets him out.

“Armie—” started Kylo, voice flat and determined, and then he shut up looking at Hux.

Hux saw a raw want in him, pain, something else too, something that tickled Hux’s fight or flight response again.

_ Run-hide-freeze _ . A second later it was gone once again.

“I’m sorry, Kylo. I thought—. I don’t know. I’m an idiot. Sorry.”

Kylo made a step closer, raised his hand, but Hux instinctively flinched from him. Kylo stopped mid-action, frozen, and then hugged his own shoulder. 

“Don’t say that. Whatever it is, it’s fine. I won’t do anything you are not comfortable with,” mumbled Kylo. “I’m not like them.”

“It’s not like that. I just—”  _ How to explain your curse to your boyfriend? _ Hux didn’t know.

“I will leave. You need to rest. Let’s talk tomorrow.” Kylo turned and walked across the hall to the door, still holding onto his bag, slouched, like a beaten animal.

“Can you stay? Please. We can watch something else, I’m sure there are more movies about assassin heroes. Or something else. I don’t care.” Hux pleaded weakly. If Kylo left now he wouldn’t see him, ever. He knew that for sure. 

Kylo stared at him for what felt like a full minute, dropped the bag, and nodded, “But I’ll also need to use your bathroom,” he smiled slightly.

* * *

Hux woke up in his own bedroom to sunlight coming from an undraped window. He yawned, lazily stretched, feeling surprisingly rested and sated. He turned his head and saw Kylo, snoring lightly near him.

Hux smiled, studying his face. He looked even younger than usual. Hux, actually, hadn't asked about his age. From what Kylo had told him about his study, Hux had concluded that he must be in his late twenties, early thirties — Hux's peer, give or take. But while dreaming the constant wrinkle between his eyes smoothed, his features relaxed. His hair was scattered over the pillow, big ears protruding between locks. He looked peaceful and content, and more than ever beautiful.

The previous night, after finishing the movie, and discussing the decay of modern cinematography, they’d ended up sleeping in Hux’s bed, using two different blankets. It'd been a late night, the weather had worsened, Kylo had looked hesitant, so Hux hadn't been able to stop himself from suggesting Kylo stay.

One more crazy thing to the collection of total madness that was Hux’s life. Who knew what a monster like him could do in his sleep to a human. That was utter recklessness. But somehow he managed not to attack Kylo in his sleep, and now Hux was rather proud of himself.

That was a small but significant victory over his obscure nature. _ Good to know _ , though Hux, I _ can't kill people in my sleep. At least, that's clear now. Live and learn! _

There was a small puddle of slick under him, but that wasn’t a big deal. Other than this minor weirdness, he felt almost normal again. Hux even allowed himself to imagine another life where Kylo and he could wake up like this every day, have lazy sex, have a lazy breakfast, watch another stupid movie together, and not to see any other gross people ever again.

He blinked and stared at Kylo. He was so cute Hux wanted to cry. He didn’t deserve such a nice guy near him. He was a foul filthy monster. Only the fact what Hux asked him to stay, jeopardizing his well-being, was evidential enough of how selfish and careless Hux truly was.

With a feeling of disgust and sadness Hux raised up from the bed. Trying not to wake Kylo up, he strode to his wardrobe, took his comfy sweatsuit from it, and left the bedroom, not looking back. It had to be over. Hux knew it. Even if he was able to control himself around Kylo, and yesterday’s evening had shown that it wasn’t the case, he still would need to fuck other people. And no man would want such a cheating slut near them. And even if Hux could explain it, and even if Kylo could believe him, putting him in such a position would be unfair. Kylo deserved a normal relationship.

Hux thought about that while going to the bathroom. One more shower to cool down his emotions and he'd tell Kylo that they couldn't be together. He was ready to close the door behind him when Hux heard a vibration noise. Looking around he located the source — the sound was coming from Kylo’s bag, laying on the floor near the bathroom entrance. Kylo must have left it there yesterday when Hux had invited him to stay.

Hux sighed and reached into the bag. Belatedly he realized that he shouldn’t do it. Normal people don't rummage through other people's stuff. After years of robbing people, Hux wasn’t able to develop proper social skills, and the meager ones that he'd had seemed to crumble over the years. But this call might be important, he reasoned, and stopping now would be stupid.

He dug into the bag, blindly grabbing a phone when his hand was scalded. He took the phone to his face, turned the vibration off, catching the name Uncle Luke on the screen, and then looked for the thing that might have hurt him.

He pulled out a crystal on a long thin silver chain.

It was a light-brown, almost transparent jewel, as long as a finger, with a smooth surface and pointy end. It'd look like something a teen girl might have bought to play-pretend a witch if only it didn't have a blood-crimson moving substance inside, that was slowly filling it, changing the crystal’s color to black.

Hux had only read about them, and until this moment wasn't sure that hunter-crystals were real, but the dread inside him left no doubt. He looked at his finger. The skin on the tip where he touched the crystal was burned as if he'd touched a sizzling hot pan. 

Something ugly moved in Hux's chest. He glanced at the closed bedroom door and he started inspecting the content of the bag.

A couple of more crystals. A ritual knife with rune-like symbols. An old book in a leather cover.

With each new object, Hux felt more nauseous. It just couldn't be true. It couldn't. Fighting back disgust, he opened the book. The diary of Anakin Skywalker stated the first page in fancy handwriting. Hux skimmed through it, mortified with sketches — dead people, disfigured bodies, monsters that would make any movie designer envious. Most of the text was in Latin, and Hux couldn’t read it, but what he could understand was enough to confirm his worst fears.

Hux didn’t know much about the eldritch world he involuntarily had become a part of but he heard the surname Skywalker. During his searches that had been one surname, he'd encountered over and over again. According to Hux's findings, Skywalkers was the most famous and one of the oldest New World’s families of demon hunters. And now he found the diary of one of them in his boyfriend's bag.

He felt the pang of danger before he heard the sound. He dumped everything inside the bag and threw it down and turned around just in time to see Kylo—definitely a fake name, he should have guessed it— coming from the bedroom fully dressed and alert.

“Good morning, darling,” smiled Hux, faking innocence, while his heart was banging wildly. “I was just going to call you. Your phone rang, I think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't hesitate to leave kudos and comments. I LOVE your comments.
> 
> * * *
> 
> You can find me [tumblr](https://mysticmilks.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystic_milks) or [curiousCat](https://curiouscat.me/mystic_milks)
> 
> Many thanks to [@spiteandmalice ](https://twitter.com/spiteandmalice) for beta reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Shameless self-promo:  
>  _modern AUs:_  
>  Famous Russian AU, that my friends and I translated [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280/)  
> Demon!Hux / hunter!Kylo [Dating a monster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703904)  
> Hux/Kylo/Techie, pwp with feelings and bottom!Kylo [You can have it all, but not all at once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721863/)  
> Russian train AU [The train on fire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477458/)  
> roommates AU, there was only one bed [Up All Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018218/)  
> co-workers on a long business trip, friends to lovers [my face above the water, my feet can't touch the ground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928956/)
> 
>  _Canon:_  
>  post-tlj, media AU [you are burned up before you know it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705078)
> 
>  _Fantasy AUs:_  
>  Hux is a merman, Kylo is a Sea Warlock [The Little Merman](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24610624/)  
> Arranged marriage, Hux needs to marry a mysterious man and Kylo needs to deliver him there [drop the curtain, blow out the candles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462159)
> 
>  _Collection of ficlets_  
>  Ficlets for Kyluxpositivity [In all the worlds, in all the times](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771663)


	3. Halt and Catch Fire

<< I miss you, darling, so much

<< How about my place for a proper dinner?

<< 6pm?

<< I have a special surprise for you ;)

Ben was in the apartment he’d rented for that mission in a shabby building on the outskirts of Arkanis. The place was tiny. Only one room that was both his bedroom, office, and kitchen. It was, however, cheap. Ben paid with cash, which was a big plus when you try to keep things under the rug from the government and from your own family, and it had been a pain in the ass to find free space at the beginning of the school year.

Ben glanced at the screen, cursed, and didn't reply.

He stayed in front of the table that served as his dinner table, workplace, and, currently, the display of his weaponry.

There laid the crystals, mixed with empty take-out boxes, and plants that Ben used for potions. Most of the other surfaces in his tiny apartment were in the same state of disorder. He'd even taken out his aspen stakes and guns with silver bullets, and put them on the stained counter in the kitchenette.

_ Aspen stakes and silver bullets, what a patsy _ , Ben reasoned.

That was clearly an overkill because Armitage-imposter wasn't a vampire, not even a full-fledged demon. If Ben's knowledge of incubus was right, and it was still an if, killing an incubus would be almost as easy as killing a human. Not that Ben had ever killed a real human.

It'd be his first solo demon expelling and the closer he got to Armitage, fake Armitage, the more complicated things got.

Then there was the  _ almost _ part, mixed with divergency. The sources varied if demons of that class were physically stronger than their human forms and if they had any supernatural abilities other than their sex hypnosis. Some claimed incubus could regenerate, while others dismissed it. But all the authors agreed that killing them was rather easy.

Easy to say, when you were some ancient monk, spending all your life behind the monastery walls. Not that easy when it was your first time, and the demon looked as threatening as a baby bunny. 

The ugly truth, the ugliest, was that Ben was scared. Not by the incubus. At least not of what he could do to him. No, Ben had been training for all his life: martial arts, all types of weapons, mythology, chemistry, meditation, Latin, and philosophy. He could easily overpower the scrawny demon in a fair fight. He'd done that during his training, with three stronger opponents at the same time. He'd been the best student in the training program. He was the heir of Skywalker’s legacy.

He wasn’t afraid of Armitage’s imposter. He wasn't even afraid of dying. No, he was scared of something else.

Of failure? Maybe.

Ben had always known that his intense training had been a preparation for something. It must have been. Why else would his family insist on homeschooling, teaching him different kinds of martial arts and survival techniques? As a child, Ben had felt lonely and lost but he’d felt, he’d hoped, that he’d been destined for great deeds.

He hadn’t been the only one. There were few other children of family friends training with him, and his uncle had been running a small orphanage, obviously, all children from there had been training too. There must have been a reason for it, but no one had told them anything. Only on his twenty-first birthday, he’d found out the reason.

The news had been overwhelming. He hadn’t been just Ben. He’d been Ben Organa-Solo from the famous demon-hunters lineage.

His mother was a member of the High Council. His dad was known for his tricky spells. His uncle was the best demon hunter, like his father, Ben’s grandfather, before him.

Every member of his family put their lives on the line to fight the forces of darkness. Even his little cousin was destined to join the family's creed one day.

Ben remembered the day after his birthday party when he'd heard about all that for the first time. He remembered standing in front of his mother and father thinking that they'd definitely been joking. They hadn’t been looking like they’d been going to laugh, they’d been gravely serious.

The world hadn't been as simple and normal he'd always thought it had been. Old legends were true. Silly tv-shows had more sense in them than the official news. Demons, supernatural creatures, magic: all that was real.

Ben had desperately wanted it to be a joke, but even harder he’d wanted it to be real. 

His mother had given him a choice, become Luke’s apprentice and clean the world of the forces of evil, or take a potion, forget everything, and live a normal life with money that they'd give him.

The choice had been simple.

Yet more than five years after, Ben had still been just a mere apprentice. Ben had been tired of hearing that he was not ready. He'd said that he'd needed a break, said that he'd needed to travel and meditate, but secretly had looked into Luke’s files and found a relatively easy target — the demon who didn’t kill.

Ben had realized that if he managed to find and exterminate the incubus by himself, his family would be forced to admit that he was ready.

What could have been easier? It was a perfect plan.

Yet yesterday, standing above soundly sleeping Armitage with a handful of attacking crystals Ben had hesitated.

He leaned on the table, concerned with his thoughts, ‘wallowing in his misery’ as his little cousin Rey used to tease him, and studied the board for the who knows what time today.

Making a chart had felt silly: buying a corkboard, hanging it, and pinning evidence as if he was a character in the detective story. He admitted that visual clues had helped him with tracking the demon and reminded him of what a monster it really was, and that outweighed the absurdity of the process.

Ben hadn't put strings on it, though, as they did in the movies. He'd simply put all the data in front of his eyes, and it had made him realize the connections and eventually had led him to the creature.

Now smiling photos of real Armitage paired with newspaper articles looked chilling. Thankfully, the printer center was self-service, or it’d have been hard to explain why he needed so many pictures of a teen boy.

Ben’s sight lingered on the one image, Ben’s favorite. On it was young Armie, no more than fifteen years old back then, in a private school summer uniform, shorts, and jacket, half turned away from the camera and smiling. That was the only photo Ben had managed to find where Armitage Hux looked relatively happy.

Ben shook his head, feeling like a creepy pervert, especially after yesterday, when he had a frisky time with the demon who used that dead boy's body as a disguise.

He'd been ready to finish fake-Armie for days, from the moment when he’d been sure that the lovely red-head had, beyond doubt, been a demon. To Ben’s surprise, the demon had never invited him anywhere secluded, never initiated anything, and seemed perfectly happy with talking in public. Ben hadn’t understood his tactics.

Had that monster been playing with him?

Ben had planned their 'date' the day before to be their last meeting. Easy and simple: he would invite the demon for a walk, lead him to the empty part of the park, and then it’d be over. And Ben could have finally gone back home.

For some reason, fake-Armitage had decided to invite Ben to his home instead. At first, it felt like a blessing, even better than Ben’s initial plan. There Ben would have been able to deal with him without drawing any unwanted attention.

In reality, it hadn’t been like that at all. The demon had led him to a normal looking building, to a normal-looking apartment. As if on purpose toying with him, fake Armie acted nervously. That must have been a freakish game, a one-demon show for no audience except for Ben.

While Armitage had distracted his attention with popcorn and movie talk, Ben had started to hesitate. It’d occurred to him that the walls had been thin in such buildings, that neighbors had been going to hear them, that it’d been incubus’s territory and it’d have been reckless to attack him there. Ben’s mind produced endless but pointless excuses.

It'd got only worse later. Somehow, during watching that ridiculous movie, Ben had felt that killing the demon like that, while they'd been that close, while Armitage had seemed to trust him wouldn't have been the right thing to do. Those thoughts had been absurd. Killing demons had been the mission of his life, his family legacy, his destiny.

It'd been hard to argue with himself when his cock was hard, Armie’s lips soft, body pliant and inviting.

“Idiot,” he mumbled forlornly, head in hands, unable to come to terms with the simple fact that he hadn’t been able to kill that damned demon yet.

Ben groaned ashamed with the memories. He should have finished that when he had the demon’s neck in his hands, but back then he’d lost control and hadn’t thought about anything, but the warmth of Armie’s body, his tender skin, and how wonderful it would feel to finally, finally have him.

The demon had been the one who stopped. The sex demon, the demon, whose whole existence had been about sex had pushed Ben away and looked like he’d been terrified of what they’d been going to do. That’d been so nonsensical that Ben had believed it. Now it felt like the most moronic thing to do, but back then he’d believe that Armitage had been scared of him.

Idiot! Damned idiot.

It was easy to forget that it was all just a game when Armie— _ fake Armitage! _ — was so perfect. It wasn’t even about how beautiful he was. And he was. He was definitely the most gorgeous man Kylo had ever seen, with perfect porcelain skin, fire-red hair, deep-green eyes, and a perfect fresh young face.

He was unnaturally beautiful but it wasn’t the aspect that drove Ben crazy, at least not the only aspect. Fake Armitage was funny. He was smart. He was opinionated and awkward and so-so innocent.

Ben was the worst idiot on the planet! Complete, utter idiot. If there was a competition of idiocy Ben would win second place. Why second, because of how idiotic he was. Ben had been charmed by a demon, knowing perfectly well what a dangerous lying creature he was. .

He'd had his chance. He'd had so many damned chances.

Ben would love to convince himself that the demon hypnotized him, but he seriously doubted that. It’d felt real, his mind had been clear and he remembered every awkward detail.

And when he’d  _ finally _ been ready to kill the demon, he had a crystal squeezed in his hand when the demon exited the bathroom, wearing nothing but a white bathrobe, looking vulnerable, soft, and sad. Poor little bunny. Ben had forgotten about the crystal, about his mission and all he’d wanted to do is to ensure that Armie would be fine.

Ben must be a special kind of stupid. “I told you you weren’t ready, Ben”, kind of stupid. Falling asleep near a sex-vampire kind of stupid.

Earlier today, Ben had woken up in an empty bed in an unfamiliar bedroom. A sweet scent had attacked his nose. Embarrassed Ben had remembered what had happened. He hadn’t been able to destroy the incubus in his sleep, as he’d promised himself.

Back then, laying in the bed that smelled of the incubus, sweet and heady, Ben had been ashamed. He’d needed to fix it. He had stood up convinced that he would go to his bag, pick the crystal, and destroy the demon now.

It hadn’t gone as he planned — again. It seemed nothing worked as planned near that demon.

Armitage was in the hall near said bag. The next few minutes had been a disaster. It’d be so unbelievably messed up, that Ben even smiled remembering it. If he survived that endeavor and came back to his family with results, someday he’d tell that story to his friends and they'd all have a laugh.

It hadn't been funny back then. Fake Armitage and Ben had stared at each other, standing on the opposite sides of the living room, not knowing what to do. At least Ben hadn't known, what Armie had thought was a mystery. Millions of thoughts raced through Ben’s mind. He could have sworn that the demon had been going to attack him, but he only looked at Ben’s face as if he’d been nauseous.

Ben had been hesitant to attack. Without crystals, their chances had been almost equal. It was Armitage’s apartment, his territory. The distance had been too big to get to him before he’d have screamed. And if Armitage would have called for help it'd have attracted the neighbors. Who would they believe, nice sweet freshman Armie, or Ben, with a fake id and a bag full of ritual things? If he got arrested, his mom would find out and that was much worse than being murdered by an incubus.

Armitage hadn't cried for help. After a long pause, he’d smiled, as if everything had been normal again.

“I don’t feel well,” he’d said, stepped away from Ben’s bag, slowly moving to the kitchen, arms around his torso.

“Can I do something for you?” Ben had said flatly.

“No. I need to rest, honey. I’m going to call you later. Is that fine?”

What else could Ben have done or said? He had awkwardly mumbled goodbye and got the hell out of there.

Only when he’d got home Ben had realized what he’d done. Regret had been eating him from the inside. There had been no reason to be afraid of the incubus. Even without his crystals, Ben was stronger than him. He just needed to react quickly — kill the demon before it screams. And because of his hesitation, the demon had had a chance to run away.

Taunting him, the phone chimed one more time. One more text message from his  _ lovely boyfriend _ .

<< I’ve bought candles for the mood ;) ;) ;)

Ben squeezed the phone so hard that the plastic case squealed pitifully under his fingers. It took all his willpower not to throw the phone against the wall. He took a slow deep breath, threw his head up and grunted.

Ben had been sure that the thing that'd pretended to be Armitage Hux had changed documents and had flown to the other end of the country.

Now, looking at the offensive phone, Ben wasn’t sure about anything. Armitage was inviting him again! That was stupid, illogical, morronic move. Why wasn't that damned creature running away? Was he that stupid, that brazen, that reckless or was there something else, something that Ben didn't know?

Ben paced the room, trying to convince himself that Armitage hadn’t touched anything in his bag, that he didn't know that he was a hunter. But that was wishful thinking — one of the crystals was deactivated. Normally the transparent crystal was pitch-black. Ben had only seen such crystals as parts of learning materials back in Uncle Luke’s school.

In addition to that, the cover of the grandfather’s diary had a demon’s scent all over it. In his soul, Ben knew that Armitage had found out. Ben had felt it, seen it in his unnaturally beautiful face. His expression had stuck between sadness and accusation as if he had the right to any of them.

Ben hated him for making those big sad eyes. Ben hated himself for how much he wanted to hold him in his arms and promise that everything was going to be okay.

He was sure that his feelings for Hux weren’t real, and Hux was playing him. Ben was stupid, he'd accepted it, but he wasn’t delirious. 

It was all incubus’ charms. His small smiles were so honest. He had an adorable little wrinkle on his nose when he frowned. Or how he could talk about art and politics and economics and sociology for hours. And how he looked at Ben with wide-open emerald-green hauntingly beautiful eyes. It was hard to resist how natural Armitage was.

Natural? Ben’s inner voice was enraged. Ben was acting like a complete idiot.

Incubi, like other low-leveled demons, were rumored to be shapeshifters. Ben had known even before he decided to hunt this particular one. Incubuses couldn't change their appearances on the spot, but with the help of artifacts, they could take whatever face and form they liked.

And Armitage was not even the real name of that creature. Ben knew that perfectly well. That monster stole the name from a long lost boy — that was nasty even for a demon.

Ben used his contact in police to find out that. Poe, who was his old friend, and a detective, had told him that the person named Armitage Hux had disappeared almost fourteen years ago. His grieving father had searched for him, but after a terrible incident and the death of Hux Senior, the search had been stopped.

This incubus was a lying monster, like all the other unnatural creatures. Maybe he even was connected to real Armitage's disappearance.

Ben knew that yet he felt for Armitage.

He felt for him, for Armie. At least, Ben was strong enough to admit it. Not for the long-dead boy from the photos, and, definitely, not for the demon-imposter, but for the image that the demon had created. Ben knew that version of Armitage wasn’t real. Yet he felt for him, for the idea, for his smiles and his haughty monologues. And Ben kept forgetting that this Armitage wasn’t and never had been a real man.

Ben threw one more look at the old photo on the wall. If he’d been alive Armitage would have been around Ben’s age, only a few years older. He would have been someone rich and significant, probably working for the government as his father had been. Not a match for someone like Ben.

Ben’s thoughts flew back to the demon. Very probably, he'd known who Ben had been from the very beginning. Probably he’d sensed Ben, as Ben was able to sense him.

That was the reasonable explanation of why he had been acting like a shy virgin, and, after their first meeting in the frat house, he didn’t try to initiate any sexual contact. Or maybe the creature got some perverted pleasure from torturing men and making them crazy with want. It didn’t matter. Nothing did except killing the demon.

Whatever Armitage’s reasons were for calling him back to his home tonight, Ben couldn’t turn the invitation down. He couldn't lose the incubus, that would be a dishonor. He needed to prove himself. He was ready. He was.

Ben grabbed crystals from the table and stuffed them in his pockets. He needed to prepare. It was incubus’ place, his territory. That was a trap. For sure. Clear as day.

He’d attack Ben, but this time Ben was prepared. This time Ben wouldn’t hesitate. Ben would overpower him.

>> Deal. I’ll bring the wine, babe

Ben typed, hating everything in his life, pressed send, and almost immediately got an answer.

<< You are a catch, darling

* * *

Two minutes before 6 pm, Ben buzzed Hux’s intercom. The apartment that the demon was renting was downtown. It was in a multi-store apartment building, not luxurious but very nice.

Climbing the stairs up to the top floor, Ben once again thought about neighbors and if they would react to the sound of fighting. He needed to act fast, so the demon wouldn't even have a chance to yell.

After checking the crystals in his pockets, Ben rang the door.

Armitage opened immediately. He stayed in the door frame, leaning against it, wearing slim black jeans and a burgundy shirt.

“Hello, Kylo. I’m so happy you came.”

“Hi,” said Ben, placing a small kiss on his cheek and entering the apartment.

“I forgot to ask about it yesterday, but how does a lonely freshman afford such a sweet crib?” said Ben, handing over the bottle of the cheapest wine he'd found in the corner store.

He noticed that one finger on Armitage's left hand had a band-aid. He didn't comment, bending to take his shoes off, keeping his senses alert and ready to fight.

“My parents rented it for me, of course,” explained Armitage with the fakest smile, guiding Ben inside by his elbow. "Where else would an unemployed freshman find money, silly? OnlyFans?”

That was a blatant lie. Ben had hacked into property files and looked into the apartment's data. It was paid by Thomas McGregor.

At first, Ben had thought it had been some poor man that the incubus tricked into paying his rent for him, but then Ben had found out that Thomas had been the demon's alias before Armitage Hux. Unlike the long-lost British boy Armitage, this Thomas was a completely fake persona, according to Ben's investigations.

“Where are they, babe?” asked Ben after a pause, the same fake stupid grin on his face.

"Who?"

“Your parents. Where are they currently?”

“In England, obviously. Where else could they be? I thought I told you that I came from Britain. Born and raised there, my continental friend. Did my charming looks distract you, Kylo?”

“Of course they did. You are enchanting, babe. Can take my eyes off you. It’s like you put a spell on me,” Ben glared at him, but maintained a soft voice, “I meant, what are your parents doing?”

“Do you want to meet my parents, darling? Isn’t that too early? Or do you want to play a detective and interrogate me?” Armitage gave a small laugh and bit his lower lip, looking Ben in the eyes. Devious creature! “I didn’t know you were  _ that _ kinky.”

“No,” Ben matched his laugh, “Not  _ that _ kinky. I just want to know more about my  _ boyfriend _ .”

“Is that so? Then fine, boyfriend. You convinced me to share my story. My father, Brendol Hux, is a banker. He's very conservative and old-fashioned. He wouldn't be a fan of our relationship if he found out. But you can try to charm him, it worked on me after all. But I’m not sure if I can organize a meeting soon. He’s practically burning at work.”

Ben was amazed Hux had used the real name of the man. Yes, the father of real Armitage Hux had been Brendol Hux, the prominent banker.

The demon had used such a strange choice of words — “burning at work” — Hux Sr, had burned down with his mansion less than a month after his son disappeared. The police had suspected that Brendol had gone overboard with booze and caused the fire himself. It'd been hard to tell but the whole left wing of the house burned to the ground and only his bones had been found.

The new information made Ben's suspicion that the incubus might be connected to both son and father's death even stronger.

With those disturbing thoughts, Ben followed fake-Armitage to the living room, where the dinner was waiting on the small round table near the window.

The food looked lavishly: roasted meat, fresh salad, mashed potato, all served on fancy plates, and decorated with orange and dark-brown. The meal looked home-cooked. The smell was mouthwatering.

“Oh, Armie,” Ben cooed “This all looks delicious. Where did you get it?”

“I cooked it myself, silly.”

Ben couldn’t remember when was the last time someone prepared dinner that nice for him. Maybe his mom had done something like that years ago, but usually his dad cooked, and he hadn't been any good at cooking. Mostly, Ben either prepared a simple meal himself or ate take-out.

The demon must have prepared it the whole day. Ben felt the pang of shame, maybe, Armitage didn't know anything about Ben's plans. Then he got the feeling of danger coming from the plates.

All of it was poisoned. Probably.

“Is that how you injured your finger?”

“I acted stupid and paid for it.”

“I don’t know that you can cook,” said Ben sitting in front of him.

“I’m full of surprises. I’m sure you are too, Kylo.”

“No, I’m just a silly regular Kylo, but you are amazing. What's the occasion?”

“No occasion, darling. Just wanted to make something special for you. Or if you need a reason, that's three weeks after the night you saved me. Our first anniversary, my knight.”

“Oh. Let me serve you the wine.” Ben stood up, took the bottle he’d brought, and before the demon could protest, opened it, and poured it into glasses.

Armitage eyed him but didn’t say anything.

“You are such a nice guy, Kylo,” he said, taking his glass but not drinking, “So, so nice. Unbelievably nice. Not like others. I think I can really,  _ really _ trust you. It’s such a rare thing these days when you can trust people.”

“It is rare,” Ben deadpanned.

“Do you want to start eating, darling?” his smile grew wider, becoming almost unhidden nasty.

“Let’s drink first.”

“Let’s.”

He took a small sip, looked directly at Ben, and didn’t recall his gaze away until Ben put the empty glass on the table with a mean half-smile. Ben wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, hating the chemical taste.

“I think I’m ready, Kylo.”

“To what?

“To go all the way with you. That's what you wanted, right? To fuck me?” the demon’s voice got louder. “Or was it all part of the game?”

“Armie, what are you talking about?” Ben tried to sound innocent while thinking about how to take the crystal from his pocket without provoking the demon.

“About sex,” fake-Armitage stood up, and took a step forward, stopping in front of Ben's stool, his knees touching Ben's hip.

Ben was ready to resist the attack, but it didn’t come. Instead, the incubus took the other bottle from the table. Not the one that Ben had brought. This one had an expensive-looking label with a French title on it.

“Here.” He handled the bottle to Ben, cocking his head lightly. “Pour it, let's drink it, and then let’s make sweet love. Or what do people call it these days?”

"Sex," mumbled Ben, not sure why he felt that awkward. "People call it sex."

Ben’s senses were screaming of danger. The wine was poisoned, that was for sure. Fake Armie was too close. His smell was intoxicating. It reminded Ben of a spring forest after the rain. The crazy thought flashed through his brain — _ what if he submits would it be that bad? _

Ben locked eyes with the demon. For a moment he was sure that his usually bright green eyes changed, became darker, became dark blue as the night sky.

The plan formed in Ben's head. He attempted to start pouring but dropped the bottle. The chaos would distract the demon and Ben would attack him. The bottle should have hit the floor, but instead, Hux swiftly ducked and caught it. They stared at each other for another long moment.

In the next instance, Ben instinctively swayed back and left, and as in slow motion saw that his head almost caved in with the bottle, that fake-Armitage was swinging at him. If not for his reflexes the demon would have crushed his skull.

Ben collapsed on the floor with the chair and rolled away towards the direction of the exit door. He turned his face up and looked at the demon. Armitage stayed there, the bottle in hand, nostrils flaring, face flustered, and hair disheveled. If he hadn’t tried to kill Ben just a moment ago, the sight would be hot.

“I knew a lot of assholes, but you are definitely in my shitty top, hunter,” he hissed and hurled the bottle towards Ben. It collided with the wall to Ben's left, missing the target more than three feet. The noise was ugly. If neighbors were going to call cops that was their cue.

Ben leapt to his feet, “Loud words for an incubus.”

“I might be a whore-vampire, and I've done a lot of evil things, but I didn't pretend to be a knight in the shining armor, so I can fuck someone before killing.”

During his short speech, fake-Armitage was glancing behind Ben’s back, where the door was. If the demon got out of the apartment, or if he screamed and neighbors called cops, Ben would never get out of it. No one would believe him. Or maybe the demon had asked his hellish friends to help and was just waiting for their arrival?

“Funny,” Ben said, acting calmly and counting his next move “Isn’t that exactly what you are doing? Isn't that your whole thing as a sex-vampire? Pretending, fucking, and harming people? Is that what you planned to do with me?”

“I wasn’t—”

Ben didn’t give him a chance to finish, he lanced forward with a crystal in his palm.

The fight started. To Ben's surprise, the demon had good reflexes, better than a normal untrained human would have had. He was weaker than Ben, but he was quick, dodged Ben's attacks, backed away, and didn’t let Ben come closer.

“I've been dealing with jerks for years," Armitage panted, in response to Ben's surprised face "and you, idiot, thought I didn’t know how to protect myself?”

Ben wasn’t interested in engaging in a word battle. He swung the crystal, blocking Armitage's movement, but the demon instead of trying to run for the exit turned around, jumped to his sofa, reaching under it. Ben got the feeling of spiked danger a second before his eyes saw a gun in Armie’s hands.

“Don’t move,” the demon said. 

Ben had lost. He got Ben at gunpoint, holding the gun like a person who had never held one before. That wouldn't save Ben. They were standing only a few steps away from each other, the demon wouldn’t miss.

“What do you want from me?” Armitage's voice was trembling.

Ben didn't move. Whatever he said, the demon wouldn't let him go away.

“Answer me!” the demon yelled.

“Okay-okay, calm down. What do you want to know?” Ben asked, desperately trying to come up with a new plan.

“Why did you do that? All that? Why did you pretend to be nice?”

“I did not.”

“Don’t lie!” he waved the gun.

“I wasn’t sure that you were an incubus.” Ben didn’t add that when he had already been sure, he simply had been a coward, and hadn't finished the job. "I needed to be certain before I act."

"And you decided to pretend to date me?"

"I did no such thing," Ben tried to manage his voice, even though he wanted to scream too. How dared that monster accuse him? "You invited me for a cup of coffee, I invited you back—"

“Why me? What did I do to you?”

That was an easy one.

“Because you are a demon.” Ben shrugged.

“Demon? I’m not a demon.”

“Is there a reason to lie now?” Ben also raised his voice, losing control. “I can feel you. I know who you are! I saw what you did with the crystal. I know everything about you! And if that's not enough of proof — you are pointing a gun at me.”

“I’m not a demon,” Armitage repeated very slowly.

“Then I can not sense you. Then you do not feed on people’s sexual energy and don’t drive them mad with want. Lower your gun," Ben smirked, while the blood pulsed in his temples "and we can both go on with our lives.”

“I’m not a demon,” he said again “I just have sex with people. That’s all I do. If I’ll stop, I’ll die. I’m no worse than any other guy with tinder. And believe me, they all want it and they all like it. I— I’ve never intended to hurt anyone. Can you say the same?”

“Liar,” said Ben, didn’t care for the gun, didn't care about anything. “I tracked your activity. Years back. Even if we put aside all the draining of energy, and stealing that you casually do, you do hurt people. You sent a man into a comma. He almost died. You are a monster and a killer.” Ben was happy to feel sure again. This demon wouldn't be able to fool him. Not anymore.

“I didn’t intend it.” the incubus whispered. He looked upset, but Ben knew that it was fake. Like everything about him, “You don't understand. I didn’t know how to control it. I— After that time, I was careful and never hurt—”

“The man two years ago,” Ben stopped him, “the one, that got into a car crash after encountering you?”

“What?” The surprise in his voice was genuine, but Ben knew better than to believe him.

“The bar in Arizona. Jin’s Taco and Tequila. April of 2018. He got into a car accident after his date with you. He collapsed and crashed into a tree. He was a family man. His wife was waiting for him. He spent the next three months in the hospital.”

“He was drunk and he drove.”

“Very convenient. You demons always have a perfect explanation. You do what you want with zero regards for human lives. And then you lie and pretend, and blame people for your deeds. You are a foul, horrible creature. I’m proud to die fighting such a filthy being like you.”

Not the smartest thing was to mock the man who was pointing a gun to Ben’s head. But Ben couldn’t stop. He lost because for a moment he felt sorry for that monster. At least he’d die knowing that he was fighting the right side.

“I’ve never approached anyone myself, you know?” said the incubus thoughtfully, after a pause “Not a single person. They always came to me, they always proposed a drink to me. Look at me, Kylo. Look at me! On my face! What do you see?”

Ben was already staring at him. To this point, he studied Armitage's features so well he could draw him. It was the face of a late-teen boy, beautiful but innocent. He even had peach fuzz.

That didn't change anything. It was just a clever disguise. The incubus had chosen that image himself.

"A demon," said Ben.

“I doubt it, hunter. They see me as a teen, yet they came to me, while their wife and kids were waiting for them at home. Do you think any of them asked me about my id? About my age? Do you think any of them said that I was too drunk to come to their room? Did those jerks at the party appear victims to you?”

“Poor you,” Ben said between his teeth. He didn’t want to listen to that. “People who react to your charms want to fuck you. The poor little monster, people give drinks to you.”

“All people react to my charms," he said, smirking, "But not all act on that. People do not fight for my attention as you may see. Yes, they all find me attractive, but most people don’t jump out of their pants for me. You were able to resist it. For quite a long time. You didn’t touch me last night. You spend the whole night with me, hunter. Why?”

He made a step toward Ben, and his gun almost touched Ben’s forehead.

"I needed to be sure."

"Liar! You said you knew. Why didn't you do anything yesterday?"

Ben didn't know what to say.

"Why did you act like that?" he swallowed hard "Why, hunter?"

“Do it,” Ben said, and pulled the gun closer, closing his palm over Armitage's hand. “Shoot me!”

To his shock, Ben saw tears in Armitage's eyes. His hands were trembling. He sniffed and shook his head.

"Do it!" Ben repeated.

"No." Armitage threw the gun away with his other hand, while his left one stayed outstretched in Ben's grip. “I’m not a monster.”

Ben's fingers brushed his fingers, tenderly touching the bandaged one. The pang of guilt made him wince. All of that wasn't right.

"Why?" Ben heard Armitage's meek whisper.

He didn't answer. There were no words to explain it, just kept caressing his hand, and looking into his deep green eyes.

Ben wasn’t sure who moved first, but his hand slid down to Armitage's arm and his lower back, while Armitage leaned forward, pressing himself to Ben and locked his hand on Ben's neck. Their lips met.

That was reckless but it felt great. Like fire on his lips. He broke the kiss only to move his lips to Armie’s neck. If yesterday was madness, then now it was desperation, derangement, complete denial of reality. Ben left trails of kisses, licked and lightly bit his exposed skin. Armitage tugged at his hair and pressed himself even more firmly to Ben's body. Ben felt his back meeting with the wall. He bucked his hips forward, grinding on him.

Armie moaned lightly. That sound went straight to Ben's dick. He groaned and sucked on his neck. Armie’s hands traveled down to Ben’s hips, tugging up Ben's shirt and putting his hands on Ben's sides. His own hands followed their example and cupped Armie's perfect ass.

“Kylo,” he whispered.

Ben caught both of his hands, stroking his wrists with his fingers.

His pupils grew bigger, making Armitage's eyes almost fully black with a thin green edging.

Ben locked the enchanted binding bracelet on his wrist and the demon fell to the floor unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments, if you enjoyed this story. I LOVE your comments.
> 
> * * *
> 
> You can find me [tumblr](https://mysticmilks.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystic_milks) or [curiousCat](https://curiouscat.me/mystic_milks)
> 
> Many thanks to [@spiteandmalice ](https://twitter.com/spiteandmalice) for beta reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Shameless self-promo:  
>  _modern AUs:_  
>  Famous Russian AU, that my friends and I translated [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280/)  
> Demon!Hux / hunter!Kylo [Dating a monster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703904)  
> Hux/Kylo/Techie, pwp with feelings and bottom!Kylo [You can have it all, but not all at once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721863/)  
> Russian train AU [The train on fire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477458/)  
> roommates AU, there was only one bed [Up All Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018218/)  
> co-workers on a long business trip, friends to lovers [my face above the water, my feet can't touch the ground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928956/)
> 
>  _Canon:_  
>  post-tlj, media AU [you are burned up before you know it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705078)
> 
>  _Fantasy AUs:_  
>  Hux is a merman, Kylo is a Sea Warlock [The Little Merman](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24610624/)  
> Arranged marriage, Hux needs to marry a mysterious man and Kylo needs to deliver him there [drop the curtain, blow out the candles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462159)
> 
>  _Collection of ficlets_  
>  Ficlets for Kyluxpositivity [In all the worlds, in all the times](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771663)


	4. Monsters and people

It took Hux effort to open his eyes. His eyelids were heavy, and he blinked a few times before he was able to keep them apart. His head was pounding excessively, his vision blurred, throat dry. It felt like the morning after a crazy party, a hangover if he'd ever had one. He flinched, groaned, and willed himself into concentration.

He sat on a hard and uncomfortable chair, wearing the same clothes as yesterday, except now he also had his autumn jacket on. He didn’t remember putting it on, so either the hunter had done something with his memory or someone else must have dressed him. 

He couldn't move other than twisting his head. His hands were bound behind his back, ankles tied to the chair. Panic jolted in his chest, making it harder to breathe. His headache got stronger with every second while he was trying to grasp what was going on.

He wriggled his hands, trying to get free without making any noise. It was pointless. Hux's fingers reached for the bindings, but his suspicions were right. No ropes or handcuffs restricted his moves. With those Hux would have a slight chance to fight against. He could rip them or dislocate his joints to set himself free. But no, he was bound with magic.

The last thing he remembered was kissing that bastard hunter at his own apartment, after that — nothing. Blackness and pain. Now he was, clearly, not at home. In fact, he noted, it wasn't anyone's home at all.

He moved his gaze to left and right, trying to be as stealthy as possible, and not making a sound.

His chair stood in the dark corner of a vast cold industrial place.

Dim light was falling through the narrow windows far overhead, outlining lit rectangle spots on a concrete floor. It looked like a typical abandoned building: full of rubbish, walls covered in graffiti, the smell of dust, mould, and piss.

The hunter, presumably, dragged him into a former warehouse or factory. Were there any old factories near Arkanis? Was he still near Arkanis?

It must be early morning, he thought. Or early evening. Who knew how much time had passed since his ill-conceived romantic dinner with Kylo.

If Hollywood movies taught him something, he could safely assume that “Kylo Ren” was totally a fake name, and that man had brought him here to kill him.

He looked around, overcome with a rejuvenated wave of hatred, and his situation was dire.

His eyes worked much better than the eyes of a regular human, so he noticed the hunter near the opposite wall, rummaging in a big bag. Yet there wasn’t enough light even for him to see what exactly his captor was doing over there.

Over the years, Hux had gained frustratingly limited knowledge of the Hunters Order and its powers. It was not like Hux could easily go to the library and get a book. If he could, he'd be already an expert on supernatural forces already and wouldn't waste time on economics.

Nevertheless, in his frantic attempts to understand his condition, he'd found mentions of the Hunters and their magical abilities. And, if the source was right, the only way of getting rid of the magical bond, or any other hunters' spell, was to cut off the limb or kill the spell-caster.

If not-Kylo used hunter-sorcery on him, the only way for anyone other than a hunter to take it off was to cut off Hux's hand. He grunted in frustration, cursing at not-Kylo, himself, and his life.

He should have shot that asshole. That'd have been so easy. Solved all his problems. Just pulling the trigger. Just a small pop, silencer muting the gun noise. He'd have been safe again.

He hadn’t been able. He hadn’t lied to not-Kylo — he was no killer.

He should have run away. He must have been mad not to run away. He must have been stupid not to run away. He'd been exhausted from running, simply didn't have the energy for that. He'd been running for the last decade and a half.

He'd been crying for the whole day, not able to believe that everything that Kylo had said to him had been a lie, and he'd decided to stay and give a fight.

Confronting that stupid hunter had seemed a perfectly logical thing to do. Okay, maybe not logical, but right.

Hux had been in his right to scream at him, in his right to be angry, in his right to prepare a gun, and, maybe, just maybe, he'd hoped to get some answers from that stupid, lying, pretending, manipulative piece of shit.

Years ago, when Hux had first found out about the demons, supernatural forces, and, as a bonus, about hunters, he'd almost wished for the Hunters Order to find him and put him out of his misery.

In desperate self-hatred, Hux had even thought of ending his life himself, but he'd been weak and soft, as his father always had said, and his hunger had been too intense to stop feeding on human life energy.

Hux wasn’t even sure if he could die. It definitely wasn't an easy task. 

When he was full of energy he regenerated almost immediately, and when he was hungry... well, he probably would die if he stayed hungry for long enough, but he was afraid to test that theory.

Every time he was ravenous he lost control of himself and hunted. Chances were that instead of dying himself, he'd wake up surrounded by dead, and naked, bodies. And that'd lead to many more problems.

Noise coming from the ceiling startled him. He threw his head back, ready to see one more hunter or something even worse.

It was just a raven. Sighing with relief, Hux looked forward again only to see how Kylo’s silhouette froze, back tense, and then he slowly turned around.

“You are awake. Good,” Kylo said, locking his eyes with Hux and walking toward his chair.

“Release me immediately!” Hux demanded, voice loud, trying not to let his terror overwhelm him.

“No. Do not scream. It won’t help,” instructed Kylo, when he stopped a step away from Hux, looking down at him.

“Why should I believe you?”

“We are in the middle of nowhere. There is no one else here. I will ask you questions and you will answer them. Willingly. Then it’ll all be over. Quick and painless.”

“Or what?”

“Or it will be more painful than either of us would prefer.”

Hux wanted to scream, to wail, to whimper. His senses acted like crazy. That feeling of being near an unrestrained predator was acute as ever. He maintained a level voice only because he didn't want to entertain the hunter with his cries.

“It doesn’t make sense, hunter. You would kill me anyway.”

“It won't give me satisfaction. I promise not to hurt you more than needed if you cooperate. But if you don’t I will take answers from you.”

“Fuck you,” Hux spat, staring at him.

“I made a potion that will take all answers right from your mind. We call it ‘loose tongue’, but do you know its other name?”

Hux raised his eyebrow mockingly but didn't deign to say anything. How would he know any of that?

“The Mindtwister."

"Nice," Hux said, "Good name. Sorry, can't give standing applause for it."

"Not nice, demon. Not for you. They say it feels like hot tongs in your brain. You are going to scream all the answers. Not able to resist it. Begging for it to be over.”

The perspective of utter pain twisted Hux's guts. He wasn't even sure why to argue with the hunter if the end would be the same, but his pride wouldn't let him admit it.

“You enjoy it, right, hunter?"

"I told you I won’t," started Kylo, his expressive face surprisingly guilty, "I promise—"

"Huh," Hux interrupted him with an exaggerated laugh, staring right into Kylo's forlorn face, "How noble. After you decided not to fuck me, you put your frustration into torturing me? I knew you were kinky."

"You are projecting, demon. You know nothing about me."

"Am I? Isn’t that what all hunters do? Torture and kill people?”

“No, we do what's necessary," he said, seemingly believing himself. Fucking hypocrite. "And you are no person.”

“As you say, hunter.”

“Answer me, or I'll make you drink it."

"Fine, honey. If you wanted to talk, you could just ask. No need for kidnapping and threats of violence. Communication is the key, as they—"

"Stop it!"

"Fine, fine, hunter," Hux smiled sweetly, satisfied with the effect, "Hit me with your best question."

"If you lie or continue acting, I will hit you, and you won't like it. You said you didn’t kill anyone. You were lying. You did kill Brendol Hux.”

The name hit Hux more than any fist would have had.

After a moment of shock, he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. The old bastard haunted him from the grave.

Brendol fucking Hux. His dear beloved daddy. Hux’s little vengeance. His little self-indulgence. One good thing from that awful first year. His father would have died during that year anyway, but Hux couldn’t have resisted the urge to do it himself. To see the bastard suffer. To see his father when Brendol had realized who'd done it to him. 

And now that was what the hunter wanted to interrogate him about. Hux had known that using his real name was dangerous, but years had passed. He could never imagine that killing Brendol would be his undoing.

Hux continued laughing until it became a hysterical wail.

“Stop it,” ordered the hunter, his face contorted with disgust. “Do you admit that you killed him?”

“Sory, dear," Hux sniffed, fighting back a giggle. "That was unusually rude of me. I do. I admit."

"And?"

"Need details?” asked Hux, still grinning, “I came there. I gave him a drug that made him disoriented. I locked him in his study. Set that ugly house on fire. I watched him burn. I enjoyed his every scream. I’d do it again, again, and again if I could. Many times, over and over and over. I should have filmed it to rewatch."

"You are a monster," Kylo mumbled, startled.

"Yeah, perhaps," Hux shook his head, becoming angry. "In my defense, it was a treat to watch. And also here is a tiny but very important detail — he deserved it!”

“What?” Kylo yelled, “Will you claim that he also approached you? That he tried to have sex with you?”

“No. That piece of crap did a lot of things. But, no, you are right, my righteous captor, he himself has never touched me. In hell they should give him a medal for that. Call the underworld, tell them he deserves a fucking medal or a new golden cauldron for not trying to fuck me. They would be glad to give it to him while slowly roasting his rotten soul.”

Kylo stood close to the chair, slightly bending to meet Hux's eyes. He looked determined and disgusted.

“I’m glad you aren’t denying, demon. I will execute you for that poor man.”

“Poor man? Brendol Hux? Are we sure we’re talking about the same Brendol?” Hux laughed again. "Poor! I'm not even starting about his tax evasion—"

“Brendol was a poor grieving father—”

“Poor grieving father?" Hux mocked him, "That isn't funny anymore. Is the proof you need to execute me for? Don’t be ridiculous! I guess you, hunters, just need an excuse to kill, so don’t lie to my face that you are doing it for damned Brendol!”

“Shut up, or I’ll rip your tongue out. What did you do with the boy?”

“So shut up or answer?” Hux knew his jokes weren’t wise but he'd stopped caring. This hunter could go and fuck himself with his lofty words and fake cause.

“Answer!”

“Shh, calm down, hunter. Being nervous is bad for your pretty face."

"Answer me!" Kylo leaned and grabbed him by the jacket.

"What boy? As you might guess, I met a lot of ‘boys’. Don’t try to accuse me of molesting kids! I didn’t check ids of all of them, but when I was in doubt, I did, so fuck off—”

“Shut up! You know whom I’m talking about. What did you do with his son?”

"Whose son?"

"Don't act stupid."

“Brendol’s son?”

“Yes!”

Hux was confused, not sure what to say. The hunter had all the emotions on his face displayed so clearly it might as well have been a billboard, and now his expression was dead serious and savage.

But he couldn’t possibly think Hux had been involved with Brendol Jr death, could he? 

Hux’s older brother had been Brendol’s legitimate son and heir, inventively named Brendol Jr. He and Armitage Hux had twelve years of the age difference and different mothers. The lad had been fifteen when he and his mother Marielle, who'd been driving, got in a horrible car crash. The fault of the other driver, they'd said. He'd been drunk and survived it. Marielle and Brendol Jr. had died before the ambulance had arrived.

It'd happened two years before Brendol had taken Hux into his home, recognized him as his legitimate son, and gave him his surname.

Years after, when Hux had found out what a monster his father had been, he’d questioned if that had been an accident. But there was nothing suspicious of it, he’d checked, and Brendol had seemed genuinely upset about their deaths. He'd been cheating on Marielle, but it'd seemed that he really liked her, or maybe even loved in his own perverse manner. And he adored Brendol Jr., even years after his death Brendol had a shrine-like collection of his photos in his private study.

“Hunter,” Hux said, “if you want to kill me, do it. Don’t come up with stupid excuses. That’s not funny anymore.”

“I will make you suffer.” Kylo slipped the vial under Hux's nose. It smelled awful, like old cheese mixed with overly sweet perfume, making Hux turn away from it. “I will. If you won’t cooperate. What did you do with Armitage?”

“What? Armitage?”

“You heard me!”

“You think I killed that son of Brendol?” That didn't make any sense. The hunter had traced him, he said so himself. He knew who Hux was. He knew about Brendol. That was surreal.

“Armitage Hux. Brendol's son. He was sixteen. It was right before you killed Brendol. Don’t lie that he came to you at the bar—”

“I’m Armitage Hux!” That was pure madness. “You fucking know that!”

“Real Armitage. The one, whose name you took. Armitage Hux, who disappeared fourteen years ago.”

“Yes. 21 of June of 2006. Two days before my sweet seventeen. Do you think I've forgotten that day?”

“You are lying! You are not him. He was a real human. You took his identity. What did you do to him?”

“Listen," Hux started, trying to talk slowly and evenly while his insides were on fire from anger, "I’m Armitage Hux, a son of Brendol Hux. His bastard son with Sahra O'Neil. My mom was the cook in one of his restaurants. I killed my father, burned him down with Hux's family estate, but I still bear his name.”

“You are lying!”

“No. I’m not. You can pour your poison in me, or you can ask your source for my old photos. It won’t change a thing. I am, or more precisely, was Armitage Hux.”

Kylo blinked at him and stepped back, staring at Hux with horror.

"You are lying," he repeated quietly.

"I'm not. You can ask me anything about Brendol, or Armitage, and I'll answer."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Why?" Hux said automatically.

“You were a human?”

The question surprised Hux so much, that at first, he didn't know how to answer. As if there was any other way to become what he'd become. Was there?

“Yes. I told you that. In most matters, I still am a human. Even if killing me makes you uncomfortable, hunter.”

“That can’t be true,” Kylo said, although there was heavy disbelief in his voice.

"Why?"

“What did you do to become this?” he asked instead, voice nervous, almost trembling, and Hux wasn’t sure if it was from repugnance or fear.

He looked at the hunter for a long time. At his wide frame. At his open and sad face. The face of his enemy, his captor, his fake boyfriend.

He was the person, who lied to Hux, who tricked him, who threatened to kill him, who very much planned to kill him. The only one who was close to Hux for the first time over those years.

Well, maybe it was the right time to tell someone his sob story.

* * *

Every word from Armitageshocked Ben more and more. When he'd asked the demon for the truth, he hadn't expected to hear this. 

If he was honest with himself, he hadn't expected the demon to tell him anything valuable. Maybe he'd have said some platitudes, some lies, jumbled with pleading for his miserable life. But Armitage's story was threatening to shake everything that Ben had known about life, from how the world works, to the Hunters Order's knowledge about unnatural beings, to his relationship with Armie.

There were tales among other students that some demons had been born humans. Allegedly, if you were wicked enough, if you committed terrible atrocities, if you did special rituals, one of the Original Devils might hear your plea, and turn you.

There'd been all kinds of crazy theories in the halls of Luke's school. Obviously, they'd speculated that Vlad Dracula had been a human, who was turned into a real demon. Or that Attila was still alive.

Ben had found those unoriginal. And, after all, no books or any other reliable sources, including his uncle, had ever mentioned such a possibility. In fact, there was nothing reliable about demons' origin.

Brendol Hux had been a wealthy man, an important man, a man well-known in high society. Ben had found that out. He hadn't found out that Brendol had been a bad, even disgusting, man: he was a cheater, he was corrupt, he hadn't shied away from beating his son.

That wasn't a life-shattering surprise for Ben. He wasn't a naive child, he'd known that there'd been plenty of crappy people in this world even without supernatural forces.

But in his free time from working for the Ministry of Defense, managing his charity funds, and hunting, Brendol Hux Sr. had been a member of a secret society.

Armitage had never found out what society it'd been in particular.

“I tried for years to find more data, maybe some other members, but I wasn’t successful,” he said.

Growing up near his strict but constantly absent father, Armie had suspected that Brendol had had secrets. Mr. Hux had left in the middle of the night, often coming back before dawn, never mentioning it. He'd lied about his travels, claiming that he'd gone on a business trip, while mixing up the dates and destinations. Some of his friends had been shady and suspicious, not proper friends for the man of his status.

Armie, however, hadn't paid too much attention to it. His father probably had had another mistress or was attending a kinky brothel. There had been zero reasons for Armitage to care. Brendol had been officially a single widower, and almost every father of Armie’s classmates in his private school had had a mistress anyway. The less he'd seen Brendol the better.

So Armitage hadn't cared until the night two days before his seventeenth birthday when he had woken up naked and tethered to a dais, hooded figures chanting gibberish around him.

As Armitage had realized later, almost a year later, Brendol and his goons had wanted to sacrifice his son Armitage to return their youth. Apparently, they'd thought it'd been possible — they'd just needed a pure child, a virgin, related by blood to one of them, and Armitage had been a perfect lad for the job.

His own father had kidnapped him from his bedroom and brought him to an abandoned building and conducted a rite on him.

“They tortured me. It felt like hours. I’m not sure,” he whispered, voice trembling, “It must have been hours, from what I recalled.”

Armitage didn’t shade away from terrifying and gory details, and Ben’s blood boiled when he heard of all the pain, and horrors, and suffering he'd endured that night.

Ben was nervously striding, fists clenched, listening to Armie's story. He couldn't imagine that humans, people who he vowed to protect, could be that evil, not as self-defense, not as vengeance, not even because of opposite ideas and beliefs, but just because they thought that it would magically make their bodies fresh and strong again.

"Then they killed me," evenly said Armitage after a long pause, still bound in the chair, "Stabbed my heart, finally stopping the pain. Although my memories are mixed up. I wasn't in the right state of mind at that point, as you might imagine."

The ritual hadn’t gone as Brendol and his goons had planned.

"I wasn't as pure as my father thought. That must be the reason why it didn't work," Armitage grinned viciously, staring Ben in the eyes for the first time since he'd started talking.

Ben looked down, feeling nauseous.

"I didn't have a girlfriend. My dear father made sure that there were no young women around me. I went to an all-boys school. His chauffeur drove me from home to there, to all my classes, allegedly for my own safety. I was forbidden to go to the parties or any other places where I could meet girls. Jokes on him, I did have a boyfriend, and we had plenty of time to experiment with each other."

To whoever sacrificed had been intended hadn't accepted it.

All Armitage remembered after being stabbed was being in the dark, without pain, and a low, overly sweet female voice. She had said that she would serve justice and that she loved all her naughty children, and punished the ones who hurt them. She had kissed Armitage's lips, waking him up.

"It's peculiar. I don't remember her. But I do remember that kiss. It was—" he paused "I was like being zapped but in a good way."

Armitage had opened up his eyes in the same room, but it'd been brightly lit. It'd been the middle of the day. The floor had been covered in rune-like symbols, and the dais covered in his blood.

He had felt fresh, healthy, strong. He had had a clear knowledge that he’d be avenged. Avenged by her, the owner of the female voice from his dream, whoever she had been.

Armitage hadn’t come home that day. He hadn’t come to the police either. He'd known that no one would believe him.

He'd found some rags to cover himself, then stolen clean clothes, and he'd gotten the hell away from London, running away from his father and everyone else he'd known, while Brendol had been appearing on national TV, begging to give any information about his missing son.

"I was fine with it. Okay, not fine but startled to do something. I was alive, that was nice, and I knew that my father, and all of them, were going to die soon anyway. Also nice. I just needed to wait."

The thirst had come later that week. At first, he hadn't realized what was going on. He'd thought that maybe the lust was a side effect of resurrection or some kind of stress-related crave.

"And then I understood how much everything was not fine. I felt horrible. You know, I was only with one guy before that, and we were rather vanilla. And then I had all those urges that I couldn't resist, couldn't control."

When he'd realized what he had become, Armitage had returned home for one last time. He hadn't cared about the consequences anymore. He hadn’t cared about his life. He'd just needed to hurt Brendol.

"I was ready to die," Armitage said, "Sounds melodramatic, but I truly was. I ...after everything that he did to me ...after everything that I did. I felt dirty, ruined, tainted. I didn't care what was going to happen. Not anymore. Maybe I—. It doesn't matter. My burned skin was regenerating before my eyes. I survived once again, and I decided to run away before firemen came."

All the other men who'd been with Brendol that night had died within a year, all under very unsuspicious circumstances — mostly illnesses, a couple of car crashes, overdoses. There had been a few obituaries in the news, all about the deaths of prominent citizens but no one connected them, and no one investigated them further.

Armitage had learned to live with his curse.

"It wasn’t that bad," he admitted. "Sex was mostly horrible. Not aging was good. Men desperately wanting to give me their money was also nice. The need to be in control all the time — not so nice. I didn't want to accidentally kill anyone."

Ben took a chair and sat in front of him. He didn’t know if he believed Armie or not. That all sounded against his teaching. Admittingly, the Hunters didn’t know much about the origins of demons. But no one ever mentioned even the possibility that a person could become a demon against their will. 

“How did you manage to find the strength to control yourself?” Ben asked. Not the most important question, but this one was safe. It didn't have the potential to ruin Ben's beliefs.

“Trials and errors,” Armitage shrugged, “This curse didn’t come with a manual. The first time... the first months were strange. I had never tried any drugs. My dear daddy forbade me to even drink coffee,—but I imagine that's how withdrawal should feel like. I... before that we did things with my boyfriend, but... we were children at school, it wasn't much. And that day, the first time I wanted to be fucked. And I found a man, and he almost died in the process. I got scared and managed to get the hell out of it. So, in the future, I experimented and almost always was able not to hurt them... too much."

"Was that Matt?" Ben asked to break the awkward silence.

"No. I met Matt a few years later. I thought–" he looked away, "He was nice. I thought that I could control it. He ended up in the hospital and I moved to Germany, and I changed my name. After that, I abandoned the idea to find any permanent partner."

There were so many things Ben wanted to know, strangely, he was interested in what Armitage thought about him, Kylo, and what it all was about between the two of them, and if that'd been real.

“The voice didn’t explain it to you? The whole process?” Ben asked instead.

“No. I don’t remember much. In the beginning, I wasn’t even sure that it was real. I thought maybe I just dreamed of her. But when my body changed—”

“Was it Lilith?”

“You tell me, _hunter_.”

How he’d spat ' _hunter'_ hurt Ben more than it should have.

“Don’t you know?”

“Everything that I found in public access was a mix of nonsense and young adult fantasy. I anonymously bought documents of Arturh Pryde, one of my father's friends, after his car had run off a cliff. There were explanations of what they tried to achieve, but not much. And when I dug deeper I found the mention of Skywalkers and Hunters. Most of the documents must have been held by Brendol, either they burned down, or he'd hid them too well.”

“Did you try to contact her? The owner of the voice?”

“I—” Armitage stopped, and smiled. His face looked genuine, “I yelled in the night sky once or twice, does it count?”

Ben didn't answer.

“She has never responded to my pleas, never contacted me herself. I kinda expected that she would after the last of them died. But it has never happened. I don’t know if what she did to me was a curse, a blessing, or a sick joke. Not that I had any voice in it, but it's probably better than the alternative.”

“Have you had contacts with others?”

“Others? Demons?” Armitage asked and continued after Ben nodded, “No. Before I met you, I wasn’t sure how real, for a lack of a better word, all of that was. Demons, curses, hunters. I don’t age. I regenerate, but I’ve never met anyone like myself.”

“Any other questions, hunter?” Armie asked when Ben didn't say anything for a few minutes. He looked worried as if he wanted to talk more to Ben.

Ben didn’t know what he was waiting for. The extortion spell was ready a long time ago. But Ben hesitated, again.

If Armitage wasn’t lying then he was innocent. He didn’t kill anyone, anyone who wasn't a complete asshole. He was born a regular human, and he struggled, and he wasn't evil beyond redemption.

But even in that case, Armitage still was a demon. Mom or Luke might know the answer but that would mean admitting to them what Ben had done. With dead Brendol and years of feeding on humans, Ben wasn’t sure his family would want to save Armitage either.

It was simply easier to kill the demon and forget about everything.

Ben did what he does best. He stood up, turned around, and strode to the exit.

“I didn't lie," he heard from behind his back "It’s all I know. I swear, hunter.”

Ben started to walk faster.

“Where are you going?” screamed Armitage “Hunter! Don’t leave. Hunter!”

He walked and walked and walked. When the abandoned warehouse was far behind, Ben willed Armitage's bindings to release him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments, if you enjoyed this story. I LOVE your comments.
> 
> * * *
> 
> You can find me [tumblr](https://mysticmilks.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystic_milks) or [curiousCat](https://curiouscat.me/mystic_milks)
> 
> Many thanks to [@spiteandmalice ](https://twitter.com/spiteandmalice) for beta reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Shameless self-promo:  
>  _modern AUs:_  
>  Famous Russian AU, that my friends and I translated [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280/)  
> Demon!Hux / hunter!Kylo [Dating a monster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703904)  
> Hux/Kylo/Techie, pwp with feelings and bottom!Kylo [You can have it all, but not all at once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721863/)  
> Russian train AU [The train on fire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477458/)  
> roommates AU, there was only one bed [Up All Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018218/)  
> co-workers on a long business trip, friends to lovers [my face above the water, my feet can't touch the ground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928956/)
> 
>  _Canon:_  
>  post-tlj, media AU [you are burned up before you know it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705078)
> 
>  _Fantasy AUs:_  
>  Hux is a merman, Kylo is a Sea Warlock [The Little Merman](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24610624/)  
> Arranged marriage, Hux needs to marry a mysterious man and Kylo needs to deliver him there [drop the curtain, blow out the candles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462159)
> 
>  _Collection of ficlets_  
>  Ficlets for Kyluxpositivity [In all the worlds, in all the times](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771663)


	5. Hide and seek

Getting back to the city was a difficult task, and it was difficult intentionally. Ben chose to walk through the forest on one of the numerous hiking trails that were scattered around the Arkanis campus.

Apparently, between studying like Hermione Granger and partying like Jay Gatsby, students enjoyed wandering in the woods, pretending they have real survival skills. Or maybe smart minds just missed their connection to nature. Or maybe... frankly, Ben couldn't care less.

If the sign on the crossroad told the truth, it'd take him around three hours to get back to the town. The path that Ben had taken was marked as an easy one. It was parallel to the highway, laying just above it. He could hear the noise from it, but tall pine trees stood between him and the road, concealing him and mostly blocking the cars from him.

He walked at a brisk pace, not looking anywhere other than forward and, occasionally, under his feet, at the rocks that were glistering and slippy after the night rain.

He concentrated on the pain in his muscles, dull headache, on the unpleasant damp coldness of this cloudy day. Anything was better than pondering about the stupid thing he'd done with the incubus, or, more precisely, hadn't done. 

Ben’s car, an ancient red Ford Fiesta, had been abandoned behind the warehouse with keys in the ignition. And that, also, was intentional. He’d bought that rust bucket two months ago for less than 1K, specifically for this mission, and planned to get rid of it after the mission was over anyway.

And his mission was definitely over now.

Armitage should have found the car already and, if he hadn't been a complete idiot, he should have driven far away.

_ Away from Ben and away from all that mess. _

That thought made Ben walk faster, almost run, until his feet started to hurt in the  poorly fitting shoes.

The sun finally appeared between the clouds. It was around ten in the morning, more than an hour since he started walking. Ben got off the trail, walked through the forest, and stopped on the narrow roadside, waiting for the next car to pick him up.

In less than five minutes, a brand new white Toyota pulled over. A window rolled down, revealing a pretty strawberry blonde behind the wheel.

_ Unbelievable how gullible humans were _ , Ben thought. A girl just smiled and agreed to drive him to campus, saying that her name was Jessy and that he saved her from a boring, lonely ride. She was completely unperturbed by Ben’s rumpled look, his unhappy face, or the minor fact that he was a more than six feet tall, broad man, who could strangle her with one hand.  _ Humans _ .

A happy song was playing, and the girl was humming out-of-tune to it, while Ben was fighting a nap back in a comfortable passenger seat.

She told him that she was a grad student and was bubbling about her sociology thesis the whole way to Arkanis. That was completely and utterly uninteresting but kept Ben awake. He was silent for most of the time, only came up with yet another fake name, lied about his major, and mumbled ‘yeah’ in the right moments.

“Here is your stop, Adam,” she said at the corner of the main building.

“Thanks,” he nodded and unbuckled.

“Hey, Adam,” her high pitched voice called when he turned away to open the door.

Ben looked at her. Jessy was sitting there, half smiling , a fleeting appraisal on he r face.

She gave him a casual once-over, and broadening a smile, “I’m free for the next two hours. We can have coffee. My place is nearby.”

He looked at Jessy, studying her pretty face, curvy, yummy form. She wasn't his usual type, but nevertheless, she was conventionally attractive, stylishly dressed, and had a cheerful vibe around her. And judging by the price of her car, she must have had a much more comfortable bed than his.

There was no reason to say no. No reason, other than he didn’t even remember when he’d properly slept for the last time, and the last time he’d showered was right before his dinner with Armie. Neither of that had stopped him before.

“Thanks, but no.”

“Well, I guess your girlfriend is a lucky one,” she smirked. "Not that she needs to know."

“I don’t have a _girlfriend_ ,” he grumbled and got out of the car, slamming the door with more force than necessary.

Ben wasn’t even sure why he’d said that. Definitely not because of the incubus.

That would be stupid. Whatever he had with Armitage was fake from the very beginning, and it'd ended anyway. He just needed sleep: good, dreamless, uninterrupted sleep. That was it.

He turned the corner and walked along the empty street to his apartment, only to turn left to the cafe instead.

There was no hurry to get home, no need, no reason other than facing the finality of his failure.

He strode to the far-away corner booth, where no one would bother him, as if there was anyone but him in that tiny cafe, where they served nothing but drinks and desserts. He gazed over the handwritten items in the laminated menu, skimming through various types of coffee, hovering on the Irish one.

“Whiskey,” he said to the approached waiter, not waiting until he asked for anything.

The young man gave him a questioning look but didn’t comment.

“Something else?” the waiter asked, the voice politely neutral “Maybe a cake? We have—”

“No,” Ben barked, and added more calmly, “Thanks.”

Way past midday, Ben left the cafe staggering. He went through the campus without any particular purpose, passing the main building and the library to its left.

He realized that it must be a break between classes. Students crowded the benches and stairs, eating, reading, catching the last fall warmth. Their voices were annoyingly loud and annoyingly happy, worsening Ben's headache.

A few of the heads turned when Ben passed by. Walking straight was hard, even impossible. Almost a liter of various heavy liquor was in his stomach, and all of that alcohol was desperate to leave his insides just there, right in front of the bronze statue of professor Yoda, the first dean of Arkanis. Ben bent over the nearest bushes but managed to overcome nausea.

He rarely was drunk. During the years in Luke's school, he'd had neither time nor desire for booze, too busy being the best student, meanwhile, his body had been trained to tolerate toxins. A dosage of a poison that would kill a regular guy in a course of a few minutes, would only partially impair Ben. He needed to imbibe almost a bucket of alcohol to feel an effect.

But today a bucket full of vodka would have seemed like a good pastime activity. Today was a special day. He’d found a demon. He’d overpowered the demon. He'd released the demon.

_This calls for a toast_ , thought Ben and wry smiled.

The small cafe didn’t have vodka, but the whiskey did the trick.

Being wasted felt strange, unpleasantly peculiar. He didn’t like how his head was swinging, how his vision was blurred, and, the least of all, he disliked how he wanted to call that stupid ginger monster.

With each step, he felt less drunk, and that was a problem. He didn’t have anything to drink. The nearest bodega was on the other side of the campus park.

Ben kept wandering aimlessly, making a point of not looking around, not making a plan, not thinking about Armitage. He walked, and walked, and walked until his headache threatened to kill him.

He collapsed on the park bench and looked at his phone as if time mattered. He needed to strain his vision to read the numbers on the screen. It was close to 2 pm.

He forced his eyes wide open, grunted and, understanding the futility, closed them and gave up, and gave in, and fell in the darkness.

He slept badly, jumping from one anxious dream to another, not able to surface back to reality.

_ Running away, running behind, running from. _

He drifted through them with a feeling of acute shame mixed with anger. His dreams were as painful as they were confusing.

When he woke up, the last vision—it felt like a vision—still stood before his eyes. While he was asleep, he hadn’t understood it, but now the meaning was clear.

It’d happened around a year ago. His uncle Luke had taken him and five other older students to the basement, descending to the lower level, where Ben hadn't been before. There, in the dark, damp small cell, in the center of it, a curled creature had been tied. At first, Ben had thought that it'd been a naked man, but to mistake it for a human, you should have never seen a human.

The monster's limbs had been disproportionately long and thin, its skin grey, and crumbly, as if made of dirt, its mouth huge, full of red pointy fangs. It hadn’t had hair, but it’d compensated by having two additional eyes on its left cheek. It'd stank of soggy soil, rotten meat, dead plants. Ben had recognized the creature as a  _ gorta _ , one of the low leveled demons.

Killing a  _ gorta _ was easy.

Luke had commanded the seven of them to surround it. They'd known where to stand, without explanations, surrounding the creature, forming a circle. Then Luke had said the spell. They’d repeated it. Three times, as the books had told. The monster had made a piercing-sharp screech, caught on fire, and burned down in seconds.

That complicated procedure hadn’t been necessary for such a weak demonic creature, but his uncle had wanted to share that victory with them.

In his dreams, the expulsion had gone almost exactly as Ben had remembered it. Right to the very end. Then, instead of catching on fire, and evaporating, the  _ gorta _ had been changing into a man. At first, just into a man, and then, while Ben had started wordlessly screaming, but hadn’t been able to move, that random man had started to turn into Armie. Ben had woken up, after looking at him through fire.

Back in reality, Ben’s heart was pumping wildly, and it took him a few minutes to come to his senses. Armitage's face, twisted in agony, was in front of his eyes. Ben shook his head, chasing away the remnants of his nightmares.

Thankfully, after a brief sleep, his head stopped spinning. He didn't want to throw up anymore, and almost didn't want to call Armie, suggesting Armie his help or screaming accusations.

Ben looked around, understanding that he was still at the park, and cursed after realizing in which part of it exactly he was.

_ Great, just great. _

He was sitting on a bench in a small secluded square with a drinking fountain on his left, only three minutes of brisk walk away from the frat house.

He hadn't been at this place since that night, but Ben was certain. It was the exact spot where they came after rescuing Armie on their first meeting. Over there, between the trees, was the trail where Armitage had disappeared, when Ben had declined his invitation.

How sure Ben had been of everything back then. How simple his life was. He'd just needed to destroy the demon. No moral dilemmas. No sympathy for that cute monster. No memories of how soft and perfect his lips were.

But even back then, during that night, he’d already started falling for Armitage. He hadn't realized it then, but presently it was clear. He had, actually, dreamed about him that night.

Even now, after everything that had happened, after the truth about his demonic origin, after more truth about how he’d become like that, Ben was head over heels for him. Even more than ever before. Even more than for any other person before.

Ben looked at the silent scenery, inhaling cool, fresh air. The trees around him had turned to gold, orange, and red — a perfect autumn picture. Leaves had been falling and laid on the grass, creating an intricate carpet.

His gaze rested on a lonely tall tree in the center of the far glade. The only one that was fully naked. Leafless, listless. 

There should have been some symbol, some answer, some metaphor. But those were just trees.

Ben frowned. He looked at his phone again. No unanswered calls. No new messages. No purpose. It was only 4.17 pm, but the sky was getting purple already.

He knew he needed to leave but lingered enjoying the picturesque evening, savoring all the pink shades of sunset.

He couldn’t bear the thought of going home. There, among all his books, crystals, and weapons, he’d be forced to admit the bitter truth.

He’d lost.

Everything.

He unlocked his phone, pressed the green button, and went to the missed tab. A list of accusingly-red numbers appeared on the screen. There were around ten of them, all dated at least a few days ago, all unnamed — after his recent failure in Armitage's apartment, Ben had deleted all the contacts.

But he recognized the digits: Leia’s personal number, her two work numbers, father’s, Luke’s and one unidentified, that he guessed must have belonged to his little cousin.

They worried sick about him. They hadn’t forgotten to mention that every time he'd made a mistake picking up the phone.

His finger hovered above his mother’s number.

_ Hi, mum. Long time no see. You were right. As always. _

_ I hope you are happy. You told me so. I know. You all knew that I wasn't ready. _

_ No, I’m not starting a fight. _

_ No, I’m not angry. _

_ But also, you forgot to tell me, those horrible demons that we dedicated our lives to kill, could be normal humans. _

_ Kinda important. _

_ Either our whole work is based on lies, or I just set free a dangerous demon. _

_ Eh, and I was kinda dating him. _

_ So, what’s new in your life, mum? _

He shoved his phone away. 

Fighting with his mother wouldn't fix everything. Not that there was a reason for a fight. Ben cursed, stood up without wobbling, and followed the path between the trees. Sitting here, feeling sorry for himself wouldn't help him either.

He’d thought he’d been a good demon hunter. His mom had also thought so. They’d just disagreed on his readiness.

So, after all, his mother had been wrong. A good demon hunter would not release the demon, believing his lies. Even if the demon in question was the most handsome being, with the saddest sob-story ever.

Was Armitage lying? No, Ben was so sure about it he could bet his life on it.

That knowledge didn’t help. What was the difference if Armie's story was true? He'd been a human. So what? Now Armitage was a demon. He was tricking people, harming them, stealing from them. Armitage, even though it wasn't his fault, was dangerous, one slip away from draining his next victim to death.

And that death would be Ben's fault.

And if he cared about Armitage's story, what was with all the other demons? If what happened to Armie changed how Ben should act, did it mean that he needed to find what happened to any other demon? Or did Ben care about Armitage only because he had fallen for him like a complete moron?

Was he a shallow hypocrite? Ben didn’t know.

He had no answers. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to question his teaching. All he wanted was to come back home, a real home. He wanted his mom and uncle to greet him as a winner, admitting that they'd been wrong about him, and finally gain the long-overdue respect of his family. Such simple things.

He increased his pace to the point that he almost ran when he reached the building entrance. Inside, he dashed forward the hall, passing the potted plants, climbing to the fifth floor without using the elevator, skipping steps. He managed to get to the apartment without counting the steps with his nose. Ben smiled, realizing that he'd fully sobered up. At least, that part of his life worked as expected.

He stopped at the door, looked at the lock, counted to three, and opened it with a spell.

“Armitage,” he screamed, entering, “It’s me.”

A smile died on his lips. Ben didn’t need to examine the place to know that Armitage wasn’t here.

The apartment was still and silent. Everything seemed exactly as Ben had left it last night: a broken bottle in a puddle of red wine, fancy dinner served for two, stale and reeking on the table, the turned-on light that Ben had forgotten to turn off, the opened wardrobe near the entrance, where Ben had searched for an inconspicuous jacked to dress his captive, and no hints of Armie.

His scent there was flagging, even faint. Armitage hadn't come here. He wasn't an idiot like Ben — he'd run far away from Arkanis. Good for him.

Not sure what else to do, Ben walked inside the apartment, inspecting every room. He had no time for that yesterday, in a hurry to drug Armitage to the car. Now, when Ben entered the bedroom, where the scent was the strongest, he saw a half-packed big orange suitcase, laying open between the bed and the closet. Dress shirts and pullovers were thrown there haphazardly, unfolded, without any order.

Breathing heavily, Ben pulled out the phone and dialed the last received number.

One long beep, and then Ben heard vibration coming from the other room. He rushed there, freezing in the middle of the living room.

A fancy newest iPhone was on the kitchen counter, right where he’d put it yesterday, after extracting it from Armitage’s pocket. Ben came to it, looked at his own face on the screen, trying to guess when the photo had been taken. He ended the call and went to the bathroom, pulling his shirt off and throwing it on the hallway floor.

Warm water helped his muscles relax, but it only agitated his mind. He needed sleep, a proper, real sleep without dreams, needed rest, and, more than anything else, he needed clarity and today that was a scarce commodity. He stood like that, trying and failing to meditate, trying and failing to concentrate on his breathing, until he gave up, once again, and exited the shower stall.

When he left the bathroom, it was dark outside. He dressed and headed to his own place without closing the door behind him. Let the neighbors find the mess, let the police come. It didn’t matter anymore. 

Today Ben was going to sleep.

Tomorrow he was returning to his family.

Things were always better in the light of day, as his mother used to say. The day would come, as it always does, and he would get the answers, trying really hard to believe whatever the Hunters Order was going to say.

On the way to his apartment, Ben resolved to act normally. He unlocked with an app, one of the shared e-scooters, stopped at the corner store, bought sandwiches for breakfast, and three cans of iced coffee. He complimented himself on that and smirked as if he really was in a bad place, and getting groceries was a small, but nevertheless, victory.

Until the moment when Ben got to his house, he was, if not  _ fine _ , then, at least, determined to pretend to be  _ fine _ for the sake of his family.

Immediately after crossing the threshold, he felt a mild jolt of danger, like he sometimes felt in the wild woods, or during group training at school. It was like a sudden silence in a horror movie like the whole world stopped and the air got denser, like the instances between lightning and the thunder. The moment when you know exactly what was going to happen and Ben knew too.

He gripped the protective crystal in his pocket and moved inside the dim apartment to the source of the feeling, guessing whom he'd meet, but terrified to hope.

He entered his own sparsely furnished only room and at first didn’t see anyone, even though the scent was there. Coming closer, he noticed a figure sleeping on his folded couch, laying on their side, an arm folded under their head, legs– too long to fit–tucked, torso covered with a short jacket.

Ben cursed under his breath and grinned.

It was at once annoying and stirring to see Armitage again.

Ben walked up to the couch, stopped two steps away, staring at his uninvited guest. Ben's vision was better than normal human's, but he couldn't scrutinize Armie's face without turning on the light. He only saw outlines of Armie's features, and even his fire-red hair appeared dark grey in the dusky room. Ben only heard his measured breathing.

That was the third time Ben watched him sleep, and each time, his helplessness disarmed Ben.

Armitage Hux was an incubus, a predator, a killing machine, yet now, when he frowned in his sleep, curling and quietly sniffing, once again he reminded Ben of a cute little ginger bunny.

Ginger bunny? That was a bizarre thought for a bizarre situation.

_ Idiot _ , Ben berated himself,  _ that's just a disguise _ . A bunny? More like a fox. A big bad cunning fox, that had pointed a gun at him and had powers to drive people mad and kill them.

Yet, Armitage hadn’t. He had neither killed Ben, nor anyone else.

Except for that moron Brendol added Ben's voice of reason.

Armitage must have looked exactly like this the night his father decided to sacrifice him to the unknown demon. That didn’t sit right in Ben’s head. What monster could look at this vulnerable, naive, open face, and hurt him?

Ben turned away from the couch, strode to the kitchen, and drank a glass of water.

He wasn't sure what to do next. After brief contemplation, he decided to leave Armie to sleep, and solve everything in the morning.

Armitage definitely needed something from Ben, if he'd risked to show up here. But that could wait until the next day. And Ben could use some more sleep before facing him.

The problem was that Armitage hadn't unfolded the sofa when he'd decided to seize it. In the unfolded state it wasn't big either, almost not wide enough for Ben alone, and now skinny Armitage barely fit there. And this apartment didn't have any other sleeping area.

The choice was between the floor or the chair.

After spending the last night sleepless, and after only a brief nap on the bench, resting on the floor didn’t sound like a  _ completely _ bad idea. It was manageable, but not desirable. Ben wasn't coddled, but a perspective of laying on the bare floor in the chilled apartment didn't delight. 

He came to the other side of the couch, where Armie's feet in green orange-checked socks were. 

Ben reached for a cushion, moving slowly, soundlessly, holding his breath, as his uncle had taught him during the hunting trips. He started to pull the damned thing when Armitage stirred under the blanket and a moment later opened his eyes. 

Armitage raised half-up, pulling his legs to his chest, and froze, staring at Ben. Ben froze too, hanging over him, at arm's length away from his startled face.

“It's me,” Ben said in a calming tone, stepping away, stupid cushion in his hand, and flicked the standing lamp on. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

"It's fine," said Armitage, voice sleepy. "Hi."

Ben smiled and yawned, looking at his messed hair and wrinkled clothes, and how cute he looked, squinting at the light. 

And then Ben got angry again.

This wasn't right. They weren't dating. He couldn't just come here and sleep on his couch. Armitage was a demon, and he'd broken into Ben's apartment.

Ben had broken into his too, but that wasn't important right now.

“How did you get here?” Ben sat on the far end of the sofa, crossed his arm over his chest, and glared at Armitage.

“I— I found the car and…” he stopped, catching Ben's unhappy expression, cocked his head and gave a small smile, “... and your lock wasn’t complicated.”

It was hard to resist that face, so Ben moved his gaze to Armie's tender, almost delicate, hands clutching at his skinny jeans. It didn't improve the situation.

“Don't. What are you doing here?” Ben asked louder. “I let you go. I left you my car. Why are you not in Mexico right now?”

"Mexico?" rare notes of humor were in his voice.

"Mexico. Or Canada. Or Idaho."

"Idaho? Why would I—"

"Stop playing. You could go anywhere you liked. Why did you risk coming here?"

“Well,  _ hunter _ ,” Armitage raised his voice, "That's easy. We didn't finish our lovely conversation earlier this morning."

That was absurd.

“What? Do you want me to kill you? Do you get some perverted masochistic pleasure from toying with me?” 

“No,” said Armitage, mimicking Ben's pose by crossing his arms and frowning. It didn’t fix his appearance — he was like an angry kitten, too adorable to be taken seriously.

Ben was sitting on the other side of the couch, but, unlike the blue sectional monstrosity in Armie’s apartment, they weren’t far apart from each other. Ben's knee almost touched Armie's toes, or Armie's toes almost touched his knee, depending on your perspective.

He was fighting back the urge to lean closer. Armitage had broken in to talk, not to reconcile. Whatever it was, Ben was a hunter who threatened to kill him, not his boyfriend. 

The heavy pause hung. There was nothing, but the noise from the outside, rare drunk yelling of students and cars passing the street. The light from the lamp was warm and calming, if not romantic.

It began to be amusing. Ben wanted to smile at him. He shooshed this and some more stupid thoughts away.

“So? What is such an important topic to talk about that you dared to come in the lair of a hunter?” Ben asked slowly, emphasizing each word, looking at Armie, not meeting his eyes, lingering his gaze at his lips.

"If I ask you, you are going to answer me, huh?" Armie pursed his lips as if suspecting a trick, "Won't you lie?"

"I don't know. Ask and see. Not that it stopped you from coming here."

“As if I'd come if I had any other sources."

He stood up from the sofa and started pacing across the room, accusingly glancing at Ben.

"Why did you let me go?” he asked, voice demanding and serious, stopping opposite of sitting Ben.

"I shouldn't have." He raised his eyes, meeting Armie's green ones. "I should have killed you.”

“I should have killed you too," he retorted, unflustered, "It’s not the answer. You are the hunter. Presumably, you are related to Skywalker, if  _ Uncle _ isn't a title. You had me tied, and you got all the answers from me. So, why did you let me go?”

Armitage wanted explanations, but Ben had zero.

"Is that the only thing you want to know?" he asked, not moving his sight away from Armie's face.

"That's a good start. It'd help me understand."

"Understand what?"

"You."

"Good luck with that."

"Why did you let me go? I answered all of your questions back then. Now you owe me answers."

“I don't owe you. And you did not answer  _ all _ my questions,” mumbled Ben, suddenly realizing it. 

“What?" Armitage paced from one wall to another, "I did. I told you everything. Everything I knew. You can torture me with your spells and potions — the result will be the same!”

“Why did you pretend to like me?” Ben asked slowly, hating himself for forgetting about it, hating himself for caring about that.

“What?”

“You knew who I was," he said, "Then why did we eat ice cream and discuss modern art together? Why didn’t you run away before, and why didn't you attack me?”

Armitage frowned more, closed his eyes, sighed, loud and angry, opening his eyes. He came to Ben's side of the couch, getting close to Ben, and sat on the armrest.

“If I tell you this — you are answering my questions," he blurted out, not letting Ben reply, "I didn’t know. I sensed... something, but had no idea that you were a hunter. I’ve only found out when I’d looked in your bag three days ago. My turn — why did you play with me? You  _ did _ know who I was from the very beginning.”

“Not from the beginning,” Ben said, leaning on the sofa's back, head thrown up. “I didn't know at the party. I— I started suspecting around a week after it, but I wanted to find more about you. I wanted to be sure that you were a demon.”

Hux huffed, "It took you a lot of time."

“Why didn’t you—,” started Ben, feeling his face getting hotter “Why didn’t you act with me like with all the others if you didn’t know?”

“Why didn’t I jump on you? Well... because you didn’t act like others. I wanted to… I don’t know... to have a real date for a change. I thought— It doesn’t matter. Now it’s my turn to ask.”

They were very close again. He could feel the warmth coming from Armitage's body, and his sweet smell was overwhelming.

_ Why am I letting him be so close _ , wondered Ben.

He could move. He could ask Armitage to change seats. He could order him to stop.

Ben didn't do any of that.

“Why are you here?” he asked instead before Armitage said anything.

“I can’t leave without knowing the answers,” said Armitage, as if it was a perfect explanation.

“Why didn’t you kill me? When you had me at gunpoint?” asked Ben, not able to stop, somehow very tired of all the controversial ideas in his head, tired of these questions-answers that produced only more questions, and tired of holding back his need to touch Armie, “You knew who I was. You knew what I’d do to you. Why didn’t you kill me when you had a chance?”

“I—,” Armitage's voice was trembling “I don’t want to become a monster.”

"Fine. Maybe. But why did you kiss me? You could have just left. Run away right there and then. You could have done anything other than kissing me.”

“Why did you let me go?” Armitage asked with loud urgency, unnecessarily loud — their faces were inches apart. 

“Why did you kiss me?”

“Why did you let me go? That’s my turn. We agreed. Answer me!”

“I couldn’t do that either. I thought I could. I thought that— I couldn't kill you. I couldn't hurt you, Armitage.”

“That's not an answer! Why did you let me go? Why didn't you finish me? You could just left me there. Or call other hunters to deal with me. You set me free. You left me my jacket and your car. I need to know why.”

"I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. I couldn't do that." Ben’s fingers touched Armie’s wrist, and when he didn't pull his arm away, Ben started stroking it, "I won't hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you. Ever. I will fight any of them if they try."

“I kissed you because I wanted to. For real. I still do,” Armitage said, putting his hand on Ben’s neck, and Ben leaned into his touch, “I like you, even if I hate myself for it. I like you, even when I know that you are a hunter. I like you, Kylo Ren, even though I’m pretty sure it’s not your real name.”

“Ben,” he whispered, “my name is Ben.”

“Ben,” repeated Armitage with bright notes in his voice. He huffed a barely audible chuckle, “That’s a radical shift, I must say.”

“What?”

“From a simple Ben to Kylo.”

Ben looked at Armie's bright green eyes. It was simply unbelievable how beautiful he was. Ben's hand lifted up, cupping his cheek, petting it with more tenderness than he thought his rough palms were capable of.

“You don't like it?" he asked, "What is wrong with Kylo?”

“Nothing.” Hux slid from the side cushion to Ben’s lap, stretched his legs on the sofa, and put his arms around Ben's neck. “Except, it’s a totally fake name, and I must be a total idiot to believe that it was real even for a second.”

“Don’t be harsh on yourself,” Ben whispered, slipping his fingers into Armitage's hair and put his other hand on his hip, “You were struck by my looks and charms to think rationally. Can happen to anyone.”

“That must be the case.”

Their lips met. The kiss was not that angry-passionate as it’d been the first time during their movie night. Their mouths moved slowly, softly, even carefully, savoring it. Ben sucked on Armie's lower lip, tightening his grip on Armie's ass, and pulled their bodies closer.

Armie moaned into his mouth. He fidgeted, moving his legs without breaking the kiss, and straddled Ben. His fingers tangled in Ben's hair, gently tugging it, shifted his hips forward, and started grinding.

Ben’s whole lower body burned with arousal. His lips trailed down to Armie’s neck, leaving small kisses on it, lightly sucking, afraid that he'd leave bruises on his delicate skin.

At that Armie tilted his head back, opening the vulnerable spot on his throat, and when Ben sucked on it, just a bit harder, Armitage made a low, weak moan, that went straight to Ben's cock.

His body trembled in Ben's arms, but then Armitage put an open palm on his chest and lightly pushed him away.

“What is wrong?” mumbled Ben, out of breath.

It was almost impossible to think right now. His head was spinning, his heart pumping, and his fully hard cock throbbing in his uncomfortably tight pants. All his senses were alert, sharpened, overstimulated. Danger, want, confusion mixed in him, driving him nuts.

"I want you,” said Armitage with painful urgency.

Ben gazed at his face and saw his dilated pupils, pink lips half-open, raising and falling chest, flustered cheeks.

“I know. I want you too.”

“You don’t understand. I won’t be able to stop if we go any further. I won’t be able to control myself.”

“I don’t want you to stop,” said Ben, and it took his mind a few long seconds to catch up on what he’d meant, “ _ Oh  _ .”

“Yes,  _ oh  _ .” Armitage looked down between their bodies. “I don’t want to hurt you. I haven't been with anyone since three days ago. My body is hungry. And I… I want you as I’ve never wanted anyone else. I want you way too much to be able to stop and move away.”

That, all that, was utter madness. Armitage was right. To have sex with a hungry incubus would be as smart as diving in a pool of sharks smeared in blood.

“I’m okay with risk,” Ben blurted anyway.

“Well, I'm not. I don’t want to hurt you,” repeated Armie. It came out as a moan.

His hand was still on Ben’s chest, but he didn’t push him away. Instead, he leaned to Ben’s chest, rubbing his face on it, like an amorous cat, " _ Ben, please. _ "

Armitage started kissing exposed skin on the neckline, whining and whimpering.

“Hey, look at me,” said Ben, trying to mask his own arousal and sound soft, “What do you need right now?”

“I— I don’t know.”

“I can help you. I'll be in control. I promise. I'll be able to stop.” Somehow Ben knew it was true. Or he was a horny idiot. Both were possible. One much more than another. “I’ll take care of everything. Can I do something for you? Can I satisfy your hunger in other ways?”

“What do you mean?” Armitage looked at him, puzzled.

The directness of the question confused Ben. He wasn’t very good at dirty-talk and wasn’t sure how to name it so he wouldn't sound like a cheap porn actor, or like a biology teacher. 

“Can I give you head?" he asked, "Would it help?”

"It might. I'm not sure. I've never tried."

"What? What do you mean?"

"No one had suggested it before. And why would I let strangers do that to me?” he said in a defensive tone.

“Okay. Makes sense." Although it didn't. "Do you want to try now? Will you allow me to do it?”

“And why would you do it?" Armitage stared at him.

It was so strange. He knew who Armitage was. He knew what he was doing. And still with him, Ben felt as if it was the first time for both of them. The right words didn't come to his mind. He felt exposed and inexperienced, and nervous, and excited.

“Because I want to make you feel good, help you with your craving,” Ben said, “Can I?”

Armie nodded slowly as if unsure.

Ben kissed him again, placed one hand on his nape and another on his lower back, hoisting him up, turning and laying him on the sofa.

For a second Ben just halted like that, holding above Armitage, holding his weight on his hands, once again struck by his looks, his open eyes staring back at Ben with so much trust, even after everything that happened.

Ben wanted to say that he'd stop as soon as Armie said so, that Armie should say if anything doesn't feel right, that he... but all of that sounded pretentious as if coming from a low budget teen rom-com.

Not knowing what to say, Ben kissed him once again, raised up, and started unfastening Armitage's jeans. It wasn't easy to pull off those tight-fit fashionable things. It felt like they'd been designed to stick to the skin. After some wriggling from Armitage's side, Ben managed to take them off and throw them on the floor.

He wore simple grey boxers that outlined his hard cock.

Next, his silly cute socks followed. Ben kissed the side of his foot. Even there Armitage's skin was delicate and smelled nice.

Before reaching for Armie's underwear, Ben took his own shirt off. Cold air pleasantly touched his overheated skin.

From his toes, Ben slowly moved up, kissing the side of Armie's leg. When he got to his inner thigh, Ben started to bite it and suck, drawing low moans from Armitage.

Those moans were muddling Ben's mind, erasing all thoughts and replacing them with lust. Ben wanted him senselessly. He wanted him as he never wanted anyone before too. But he willed himself to proceed slowly, not to rush anything.

From the left thigh, he turned his attention to the right, kissing and sucking on it too.

Armie's moans got lower, shallower, and only then Ben reached to the waistband, hooked his fingers on it, and slowly slid Armie's boxers off.

His dick looked as cute as the rest of him — chubby and pink, surrounded by dark red hair. Its head was glistening with precome.

A stray thought popped in Ben's head. It could be dangerous. That he must be mad, to take a demon dick in his mouth. That was positively the most stupid thing he could do.

He did it anyway.

Gingerly he bent down, opened his lips, and licked it. It wasn't like the first time. That flustered and unsure he hadn't felt even back then. 

Right now, there was much more at stake. Ben needed to show Armie how it can be good, nice, pleasant when it was with someone who cared about pleasing him. He needed to show Armie that he could trust Ben.

And he needed not to die in the process.

Ben licked the tip, tasting the salty precome, moved down while he teased the underside with wet licks and kisses, and encouraged by Armitage's moan, he wrapped his lips around his cock. 

Ben moved his head up and down, concentrating on rhythmical movement and Armie's sweet noises. It was like meditation. It kept him grounded. It helped him not to lose his mind with want.

"Ben," he pleaded from above. And to that, Ben twisted his tongue and was awarded with a high-pitched whine.

"Ben," he groaned again, voice broken and ragged. Ben felt a grip on his hair, tugging him up. "Stop."

He withdrew and looked at Armie, puzzled. But he only saw the pleasure on his face.

“Not with your mouth,” panted Armitage, "We don't know—"

Ben understood it without words. His hand slid down over his stomach and curled around his cock, while lapping on his neck.

"Aw, don't worry, baby," he whispered, jerking him off, while Armitage was squeezing under him, "I got you."

In a few moments, Armitage went limp below Ben as his orgasm tears through him. His seed, hot and sticky, covered Ben's hand.

Ben moved his gaze from his dick to his face and saw that Armitage smiled, sated, and he pulled Ben closer, kissing him.

"I didn't want you to stop," he mumbled, "I just wasn't sure—"

"You don't need to explain anything."

"I know," he nuzzled Ben's nose, "But who knows what my body can do. I might be so lucky that my come is poisoned."

The thought made Ben chuckle. He brought his hand to his face, and, before Armitage was able to say anything, licked his fingers.

"Don't want to disappoint you, dear," he said, "But it tastes like regular semen. Nothing special on that part. Not poisoned."

"Idiot."

“It’s not poisoned.”

“Maybe it needs time to act.” 

“We’ll see. I can't go anywhere anyway. How are you feeling?”

“Great. I— I want you more. But differently. More normal, maybe.”

“Great.”

Armitage smiled at him, and that gentle, open, honest smile melted Ben's heart. How could he even think about hurting this man, even for a moment, even without knowing the truth? Now Ben internally vowed to keep him protected, of all costs.

"What?" asked Armie, touching his ears.

"What?" asked Armie, touching his ears.

"Nothing, just looking at you."

Armitage hummed and pulled him closer by his ear, kissing Ben again. They started slowly, almost lazily, but it quickly grew hotter, and now Ben was on top of him, while Armie was pulling Ben's pants down, muttering sweet obscenities.

"Your smell is something," he panted, "I can't control myself. From that moment in the park, I can't stop thinking about you. I— You are— I can't think straight when you are around."

"Hey," Ben caught his hands, pinning them above his head, "Slow down. I want you too. But you were worried about doing it—"

"I'm fine now," he whispered, "And you seem to be not hypnotized."

"Sure?"

"Yes," and as if proving his point, Armitage arched his back and kissed Ben again.

“I don’t have… well anything,” said Ben suddenly aware of that.

"What do you mean?"

"Like—" damn, why he makes me feel like an embraced teen, "There might be an old condom in a wallet somewhere. But I don't have lube. I can run to the drug store—"

"No need," said Armitage slyly, "I can't get ill, and I can't contract diseases. And, about lube..."

Armitage took Ben's hand and guided it between his legs.

“We don’t need it either.”

Ben touched slickness, gathering at his entrance. His fingers circled his hole, ready to slip in.

"Supernatural perks", huffed Armie in his ear when shock appeared on Ben's face.

Ben, obviously, had heard about that feature of incubus but always assumed it was a myth. It wouldn't be too good, and too convenient to be true. It must have been some silly joke or horny fantasy. But it wasn't —Armie was slick and ready.

Ben slid one finger in him, entered Armitage's ass, relishing in its warmth and tightness.

The second finger followed in, and Ben started to move them in and out at a deliberate pace.

"No need to do it," said Armitage, voice weak, "I– You can just do it, I'm ready."

Ben curled his fingers, and a soft moan came from Armie's lips.

"I don't want to just do it. I want to make it right for you," Ben panted. He did really want to rush it. He'd been waiting for it for way too long. But he was eager to wait longer if it meant to make it better for Armitage.

Ben moved his fingers faster while studying his face and setting his pace depending on it.

"Ben," whined Armitage, tugging at his hair, "Ben, please."

"What?"

"I need you inside me. Now."

"As you command. I need you to hold your legs for me."

Armitage took his knees at his hands, pulling them to his chest.

The unfolded sofa was too small for them, so Ben put one of his feet on the floor, and the other on the other side of Armitage. He slid his dick inside, in one swift motion. It was the best feeling ever. Armie's walls were so tight and hot and wet, so Ben was barely able to control himself.

He fucked him, gazed locked, while Armitage mumbled his name mixed with a string of pants and pleas.

He spasmed around Ben, milking him with his asshole, driving him nuts with all the new feelings. It was impossibly good. Better than fireworks, explosions, better than lightning in his brain. It was better than any cheesy metaphor that Ben had ever said or heard.

It was great to pleasure Armie, tasting his soft moans, almost mewls, hearing him first whispering Ben’s name, and then weakly mewling it. It was great to bury himself inside Armie’s wet, warm and tight hole. It was great.

Ben came with a snarl, his climax ripping from him, falling on top of Hux, limp and breathless. 

Ben's mind got blank, only a tiny slip of control left, quietly reminding him that that was an extremely dangerous game. But he felt neither hypnotized nor exhausted. Well, he didn't want to move and wanted just to close his eyes and nap, but no more than usual after good sex.

"You are going to crush me," he heard Armie's voice, and then felt a weak poke on his side.

"And that's how you kill your demons," said Ben with a yawn.

"Not funny."

"It is funny. And smart," he said, wriggling on top of him, but moving his weight to his hands, "And a very efficient  _ and _ pleasant way to trap a demon."

"Idiot," huffed Armie, playfully trying to get free "And, by the way, you live in a dumpster. How do you even sleep here without a bed?"

"On the floor," Ben deadpanned, slipping out of Armitage, and raising up.

"Where are you going?"

"To summon a bed."

"What?"

"Don't move, let me show you the might of my magic powers." And with that Ben pulled the edge of the sofa up, unfolding it and turning it into a middle-sized bed.

"Idiot," Armie huffed, but Ben jumped back on him, kissing his perfect lips.

They didn’t leave that sofa during the night, making love over and over again. Ben hadn’t had such a sex marathon since his first boyfriend when he was eighteen. Around Armitage, he was constantly aroused and wanted more and more.

When they finally stopped, the sky started to get lighter, pre-dawn. Ben was utterly exhausted but he felt excellent.

His premonition was right — having sex with an incubus wasn’t that precarious for him. Ben wasn't fully human either, and his body was prepared for such a sweet trial.

Ben turned his head, studying his partner's face. Armitage seemed to be happy and content, dozing off on his shoulder. Ben stroked his hair.

“What’s next?” said Ben, not sure whom exactly he was asking.

“No idea. By this point, I usually take all the money my victims have and leave before the spell evaporates.”

“Well, you know where to find my wallet. It's near my phone in my bag,” Ben chuckled. "But be careful, little demon, there are a few crystals in there, do not burn your pretty little finger."

“Such an idiot. Shut up, or I will indeed kill you, stupid big hunter,” Armie said, lightly biting his shoulder. "Then we will see who's funny."

“Sleep," Ben kissed his nose, "Give me a couple of hours to recuperate, and you can make another attempt on my life, dangerous, scary demon.”

He almost fell asleep when he heard, “Ben?”

“Huh?”

“Will you help me find a cure?”

_**The End** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't hesitate to leave kudos and comments. I LOVE your comments.
> 
> * * *
> 
> You can find me [tumblr](https://mysticmilks.tumblr.com), [twitter](https://twitter.com/mystic_milks) or [curiousCat](https://curiouscat.me/mystic_milks)
> 
> Many thanks to [@spiteandmalice ](https://twitter.com/spiteandmalice) for beta reading!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Shameless self-promo:  
>  _modern AUs:_  
>  Famous Russian AU, that my friends and I translated [To the Moon and Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380280/)  
> Demon!Hux / hunter!Kylo [Dating a monster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26703904)  
> Hux/Kylo/Techie, pwp with feelings and bottom!Kylo [You can have it all, but not all at once](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721863/)  
> Russian train AU [The train on fire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477458/)  
> roommates AU, there was only one bed [Up All Night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18018218/)  
> co-workers on a long business trip, friends to lovers [my face above the water, my feet can't touch the ground](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928956/)
> 
>  _Canon:_  
>  post-tlj, media AU [you are burned up before you know it](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705078)
> 
>  _Fantasy AUs:_  
>  Hux is a merman, Kylo is a Sea Warlock [The Little Merman](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24610624/)  
> Arranged marriage, Hux needs to marry a mysterious man and Kylo needs to deliver him there [drop the curtain, blow out the candles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462159)
> 
>  _Collection of ficlets_  
>  Ficlets for Kyluxpositivity [In all the worlds, in all the times](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25771663)


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